


Heart of a Tool

by markofthemoros



Series: Tool [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Gen, Imprisonment, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 03:20:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10711092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markofthemoros/pseuds/markofthemoros
Summary: "Ladies and gentlemen!" Although morphed a bit by static, glee and satisfaction were audible in the age-worn voice blasting from the speakers. "Welcome to witness history to be made. The day that marks the dawn of a new era!" 'No! I didn't know! I swear I didn't know…' "Welcome to witness the day-" 'It wasn't my fault' "-the last king of Lucis dies!" HC Prompto-angst with a plot. WARNINGS: character death, self-harm, strong language





	1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hi guys! I'm so excited about this fic! I got this idea literally in the middle of the night (since that's when the best ideas usually strike, right?), and it's just a scream! Beta reading by** **Elillierose** **on FF.net again - thanks in advance!**

 **I had intented this to be a lengthy one-shot, but 14 pages down and just about done with the intro, I realized that this'd turn out to be way too long to be a one-shot.** **It's AU-ish, I guess.** **I take huge liberties here, but I will try to make it so that it makes sense. Nevertheless, it CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR CANON EVENTS!  
**

* * *

_This alone, you're in time for the show  
You're the one that I need_

_I'm the one that you loathe_  
_You can watch me corrode_  
_Like a beast in repose_  
_'Cause I love all the poison_

 

_Away with the boys in the band_

My Chemical Romance – The Sharpest Lives

* * *

Prompto felt the sun rays warming his cheek, and half-lidded eyes turned to gaze at the sky absentmindedly out of the small glassless window. The cool stone against his back made chills run along his spine despite the gentle warmth. He could hear the cheering crowds outside, but the sound seemed dreamlike. So distant and out of place.

He could have never imagined it'd turn out like this.

He jumped a little at the sound of a weight colliding with the bars further down the hollow hall, then Gladio's heartfelt curses as the metal refused to surrender. With a timid sigh, Prompto dragged himself to sit on his knees and grabbed a hold of the bars that sealed him up into the cramped space of his own, and tried to peer his eyes over to the brute man. "Gladio…"

"I hope you are happy now." Prompto couldn't help a gasp escaping at the sound of Ignis' icy tone; the sound was drenched with malevolence and hate, and it made the blond shiver and swallow.

'Please…' "Iggy, I–"

"Don't you dare speak to me, filth!" he hissed, cutting a venomous glare at the blond to silence him. The pleading look on the other's face was ignored.

In his own cell across the aisle, Ignis leaned against the bars, clenching them with both hands, glaring bloody murder at the younger man. The blond felt his lips moving but nothing came out. Fear, primal and desperate, clenched his chest.

'Please! I-I didn't mean to…!'

 _"Ladies and gentlemen!"_ Although morphed a bit by static, glee and satisfaction were audible in the age-worn voice blasting from the speakers. The cheers of the crowd got louder _. "Welcome to witness history to be made. The day that marks the dawn of a new era!"_

"You belong out there, Prompto. Instead of him," Ignis declared coldly. His hard eyes never left the other's; he didn't even blink.

'No! I didn't know! I swear I didn't know…!'

_"Welcome to witness the day-"_

'It wasn't my fault!'

_"-the last king of Lucis dies!"_

.

.

.

Five days earlier

The groovy music sounded from the eatery as Ignis pulled Regalia in to park in front of the hotel. A collective sigh of relief could be heard as everyone stretched and picked themselves up after the day-long drive.

"Here at last," the adviser noted with genuine satisfaction as he got up and rolled his stiff shoulder a little.

"Tell me about it," Noctis grumbled a little as he, too, got out, slightly less gracefully as the other one. "Felt like it'd never end."

"Hmph! Says you. You slept half of the time," Gladio teased. The prince rolled his eyes.

"Hey, don't hate me if you can't catch an eyeful," he shrugged. A dark smirk stretched over the bodyguard's lips, but he made no comment about that.

Ignis was going through their supplies in the trunk and noted, "We have some shopping to do, it seems. We're running low on curatives, and as it so happens, the local spices produce is renowned for its exquisite flavor that I am quite keen on exploring myself. Noct, you wouldn't mind assisting me." It wasn't as much of a question as it was a polite request. For a moment, the prince looked like he was about to refuse but then shook his head and waved his hand in a bored way,

"Yeah, sure, whatever." The strategist flashed a satisfied smile. Taking a note of their requirements, he pushed the hood back down.

"Perfect. Alright then, you two should go on ahead and check in. We'll be with you later." He waved a casual hand at the others as he turned to head out.

"Yes ways!" called Prompto as he flicked his wrist as a goodbye.

"Yeah, and don't forget to get some cup noodles this time!" Gladio yelled at their distancing backs.

Prompto stretched his arms behind his back as he leaned his back long against the car. "So, should we head in?"

"Yeah, sure," the other replied. "Care to join me?" He motioned towards the front desk of the hotel; the blond gave a dismissive shake of his head and shooed him to go on alone. The brute rolled his eyes, but let it go as he strolled over to pay for a room for the night.

The blond had his phone out, tunes of King's Knight sounding from it as he came back with the keys. "Hey. Maybe help me out here?" The tone wasn't exactly irritated but let the other know Gladio wasn't going to be the only one doing the unpacking.

"Huh? Oh! Oh yeah, just a sec, just gonna finish this quest…" he drabbled, only glancing up from his phone briefly and never stopping tapping the screen. Soon enough the small fanfare sounded to signal his victory, and grinning, he stuffed the phone into his pocket and pushed himself off the car. "So, what can I do ya for?" he slipped, accidentally going into Cindy's rural dialect; they had said their goodbyes to their friends in the morning before heading out from Hammerhead, and the memory of the woman was still clear in his mind.

"Well, I'm sure she could do you anyway she wanted, and you wouldn't mind." He took delight in seeing color flush over the freckled face, the blond choking on his own breath.

"H-hey! That's… private!"

"Sure. More like imaginary," Gladio smirked. "You're not denying it, though."

"How 'bout we leave it at that?" Prompto grumbled as he pushed past him to grab a few bags. He had become to regret ever opening his big mouth about his crush on Cindy. Whenever they were anywhere near Hammerhead, he never heard the end of it. And the big guy had some mouth to him! They could cook an egg on Prompto's face whenever Gladio teased him about that.

Chuckling, the shield showed him mercy and said no more as he gathered what was left in the trunk, and they headed towards the accommodations. Prompto was pouting a little, a blush still tinting his cheeks, and he avoided looking at the other. "S-so, what's the room number?" the blond asked, aiming for casual but coming out a little timid. If the other noticed it, though, he ignored it.

"106. The lady at the front desk said it'd be the last door on this aisle," he replied sincerely.

"Ugh, awesome! I'm ready to just hit the shower and hit the bunk," the other almost cheered.

"Not yet you're not. Iggy's gonna have your ass if you're going to bed without dinner," he smirked.

"Dude, I meant shower, dinner, then bunk. I'm not missing out on Ignis' cooking!" Prompto replied with a smirk of his own.

They reached the room and wasted no time in getting in. It was a neatly decorated room with rural style furniture and a large window for good lighting. Two twin beds were situated next to the entrance, and as soon as Prompto got his hands free, he splayed himself over one. "Aah! Heaven!" he almost sighed.

"C'mon now. The drive wasn't that bad." Gladio had neatly placed the luggage over the windowsill couch and took a seat on the other bed. "So, did you get any nice shots today?" he asked, genuinely interested.

Sitting up as if he'd been hit with a lightning bolt, the younger man laughed in excitement, "Oh yeah! I forgot to show you…" He scrolled to the shot he meant and handed the camera over. Dark brows rose in appreciation.

"Huh. Not bad." It was a shot of a herd of Arbas, the creatures seemingly undisturbed by the commotion as they were browsing around. One was lying in the ground, while the bull was looking at the camera, its large antlers making it look majestic.

"Yeah, I'm pretty happy about that one, too," he smiled as he switched the camera back off again. "Hey, do you think they'll be taking much longer? I mean, Old Lestallum isn't that big."

The other gave a soft laugh. "Well, if it's up to Iggy, they might spend the rest of the night tasting those spices," he chuckled. "Honestly though, they should be back soon."

Gladio had texted them the room number, and after about half an hour or so, a few firm knocks behind the door signaled their return. "I apologize for the delay," Ignis noted, not sounding sorry at all. Setting a few things onto the table, he stepped into the kitchen area and got the stove on.

Noctis had slumped into an armchair, one leg comfortably over the other. "So, whatcha making, Specs?"

"Oven-braised sea bass with a warm side of local vegetables," Ignis told without sparing him a glance.

"Well, it has the word 'bass' in it", the prince grimaced a little at the mention of the accompanying nonsense. The strategist made a frustrated sound.

"A well-balanced diet would be a wise choice, Your Highness. That is, unless you wish to gain weight." Noctis arched a brow.

"You saying I'm fat?" he asked incredulously. The adviser smirked.

"Of course not, Your Highness."

"Well, you could try and work some muscle into those spaghettis," Gladio teamed up with him. "Might actually stop mistaking you for a girl." Noctis gave him the finger.

Almost everyone had freshened up by the time dinner was done. Ignis had picked out an herbal selection for the fish, and it was agreed it really made a difference. The brisk aroma of the herbs balanced out the natural saltiness of the fish, really bringing out the umami. It was mouth-watering.

"So, what's tomorrow about anyway?" Noctis asked when everyone was done with their meal. "You said you found a hunt."

"Yes, well, I happened to talk with a few hunters in Hammerhead's diner and learned that a flight of wyverns are terrorizing the outpost of Ravatogh trail and nearby areas. The hunters have been requested for help, but so far with thin results, I'm afraid," Ignis explained. "And we are getting thin with money."

"Sounds easy enough for me," Gladio nodded.

"Isn't a wyvern, like, a dragon?!" Prompto sounded equally excited as he was impressed. Ignis' face was stern.

"I suppose so, although you may scrap any fantasies of breathing fire and speaking in ancient languages. Wyverns can, however, create strong gales and are strong enough to carry a man, which is why the locals are getting anxious. So far the beasts have apparently only taken a dog, but I should hope we wouldn't allow them a chance to take anything, or any _one_ , else." An eerie silence settled around them as the words sunk.

Noctis nodded, looking determined, "Alright then. We'll leave early."

* * *

Slow steps were muffled greatly by the heavy layers of fabric sweeping the ground around him. The soft shuffling echoed in the high stone walls as the figure took his time walking. He chuckled a little at the thought; he himself would stand waiting for nothing, but the world would wait for Iedolas Aldercapt. As the corridor opened into a veranda, the man spotted whom he was expecting to meet here. Grin spreading to show teeth, he strolled to take place beside the other on the balcony overlooking the city.

"Are you certain of this, Chancellor?"

The smile on Ardyn Izunia's face grew cold as he nearly purred, "You can rest easy, Your Grace. I will not fail."

"And we'll have the boy?"

The grin widened into a smirk, "Him, or whichever piece of him you should desire."

The cloaked man shook his head, "No. Bring him to me alive." Ardyn had to stop himself from sniggering at that. He understood the implications of those words. "I want to see for myself how the light leaves his eyes. And then, Chancellor, then those eyes shall never gaze upon my Crystal again!"


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:This's the first time ever I'm actually writing Ignis in action! Woot?! Yeah. He's been, well, on the background in all my other XV stories.  
**

**Beta read by Elillierose.**

* * *

Despite leaving reasonably early, it still took quite some time to reach the Ravatogh outpost. The trail was in bad shape and the crushed lava stone beneath tires forced Ignis to drop down their speed. The sun was way past its peak when they finally got a good look of the volcano, the stone slabs looking like fingers reaching out in graceful arcs, ribbons of smoke rising from it until evaporating into the sky. "Check that out, Noct!" Prompto punched his friend's shoulder lightly and pointed at the mountain.

"Yeah," he grinned appreciatively to humor him.

"Rather impressive," Ignis nodded as he sipped his coffee. He drove them up to the outpost, where he pulled in to park. "We should perhaps seek a local informant about these beasts and their location. Chances are, we might be better off on foot from now on." Without waiting for the others to get out, the adviser turned to head for the store.

"Sounds about right," the shield added as he went to go after him. "You two coming or not?"

Prompto shook his head, "Nuh-uh. Imma stay out here and let it roll," he raised his camera for emphasis.

"You guys go," Noctis ushered him with a flick of his wrist, turning to chat with the blond. Shrugging, the older man let them be as he strolled after the other. As he did, though, suddenly Gladio felt a shudder of anticipation run along his spine. On instinct he glanced around, not caring if someone was watching. He cursed under his breath as he noted the Imperial dropship floating in the distance. It wasn't coming towards them, but it was enough to make him alert. It looked like it was headed over the volcano, and the man let out a held breath as it glided monotonously out of the view behind the mountains. Sighing a muttered curse, he went after the strategist.

He found him caught into an apparently intense conversation with the local eatery keeper, the guy almost babbling. "–and it's only a matter of time before them creatures take one of the kids! If the word of those devils gets out, we'll lose the tourists, sir, so we'd greatly appreciate discretion with this matter, you see." Gladio glanced at the adviser, who was listening keenly with a hand at his chin in thought. However, as the man went on, he noted the tiniest of twitches as the strategist's patience ran thinner.

"If you would please," Ignis interrupted sternly, his tone cutting the other off, "–be so kind as to point us to the right direction, we'd be happy to take care of that problem for you… for a reasonable compensation, of course." There was a cunning glint in the strategist's eyes and he didn't bother covering up his intentions. The kiosk keeper looked baffled for being interrupted but was quickly brought around at the promise of a solution.

"Yes. Yes, of course. There has indeed been a bounty announced… Should you really help us out with this one, boyo, that bounty's going to be yours!"

Looking very pleased, the strategist prompted, "Now then, about that location…" The man described him the route to the nesting area, and with a promise to get back to him, Ignis took his leave. He met Gladio's amused face, knew instantly that the other had heard everything, and gave him a cheeky wink. "Ask, and you shall receive."

"Isn't being after money like that a bit beneath you?" the brute chuckled.

"With those two wanting to spend every other night in a hotel, no, it isn't. We're not exactly rolling in the riches anymore," he huffed. Truly, a significant amount of their budget had been well spent on hotel nights lately, mainly due to Noctis' recent reluctance to spend a night camping if it wasn't necessary, and Prompto's self-indulgence was doing little to help. They hadn't had too many hunts for a while, either. Gil-wise, they had enough, but not even nearly as much as Ignis would have liked.

The other gave a small laugh. "You got that right. So, you got the location?"

"They're nesting north of here, on a cliffside in the root of the mountain."

"Nice." As they walked back, Gladio brought up the matter. "Saw another Imperial dropship just now." The strategist's face got tighter. "It looked like it was on patrol. It wasn't going anywhere near travel speed." The other hummed in understanding.

"There has been an increase in their activity, have you noticed that? Every so often one passes us nowadays."

"Yeah. Not like we couldn't take care of them, but would be nice to avoid confrontation if possible," Gladio said, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'm with you. Any needless engagement is a foolish gamble. We should remain under their radar the best we can."

The younger men were debating lightly as they got back. "Dude, that's totally not what I said!"

"You said 'you've got this'. Your words, not mine, Prom," Noctis' retort was amused. "She wiped the floor with you, deal with it."

"I–"

"What's going on?" Gladio interrupted, looking a bit perplexed. Prompto grunted in irritation and turned his face, whereas the prince smirked openly at his friend's behavior.

"Prom's just a bit touchy about Iris winning that chocobo race by so much."

"Is that so?" the shield grinned, glancing over the blond. He had his arms crossed and was clearly annoyed about it.

"I want a rematch!" Prompto declared.

"Well, I'm sure she'll be happy to kick your ass again any day," Gladio chuckled as he pushed by him, ruffling his hair as he did. He jerked his head away.

"Hey!"

"So, what's the situation?" the raven-hair asked. Ignis pushed his glasses up and took a deep breath,

"It seems the townsfolk are indeed in need of extermination of these beasts. It seems they are getting rather desperate."

"So, where're we headed?" Prompto's voice perked up in excitement.

"The creatures appear to be nesting at the root of the volcano. I suggest we drive as close to it as we can and continue on foot," Ignis stated as he motioned them to get back into the car.

The trail didn't go on much further than the outpost, though. It looped less than five miles after the residential areas were passed, but it got them a little closer at least. Leaving the Regalia at the parking area at the starting point of a recreational path to the volcano, they started the hike.

The terrain really did leave a lot to be desired. The gravel slipped under their feet constantly, making walking rather demanding, and the rising heat had them sweating with but a little exercise. No-one voiced it, though, but the place was draining their strength more than usual.

It took a couple of hours to get to the root. There, Ignis had them stop. "I suggest we take a breather," he called out from his place at the lead as he peered behind them. Noctis was at his heels, but Prompto and Gladio had fallen a bit behind. The blond was further down the path, hands on his knees and bent over, panting. The older man had stopped to wait for him to catch up.

"How you holding up?" he asked the blond, concern audible in his voice. The younger man pushed himself up and waved a hand in dismissal.

"Just a little out of breath, is all. No big deal." As if to demonstrate his words he sprinted into jog to catch up. Gladio eyed him a bit warily but seeing as the blond didn't falter any more, he let it go.

"Everything alright?" Ignis offered solicitously as they reached them. He and Noctis had already sat down, both gulping from their water bottles.

"Smeshy," Prompto grinned, panting a little. "Won't say 'no' to a break time, though." He slumped down close to Noct and leaned against the rock, only to decide immediately it was a terrible idea as the sun-bathed rock felt uncomfortably warm against his back. Bolting to sit straight again, he wiped his face, "Man, it's smoldering!"

"No kidding. It is a volcano," the survivalist noted, arching a brow. "You'd do good not to take that lightly. A heatstroke can occur easily."

"You guys're constantly on my back, you know," the gunslinger sighed, shaking his head a little.

"Now you understand why I wanted you to tag along? See what I'd have to deal with if you weren't here," Noctis joked as he elbowed him in the side playfully. The blond laughed,

"And here I thought I was special to you! Geez, thanks a lot, man!" He smacked him back lightly.

Ignis grinned at the exchange a little, then got serious again. "We should be over halfway there. The man at the food cart described the path to get steeper rather quickly, then a branch of it leading into a collapsed-in canyon in which the creatures supposedly reside."

"Has anyone ever actually seen these things?" the gunner asked. "How do we know they're actually there?"

"We just have to go with what we have, I guess," Noctis shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"We should mosey. It'll take all night to get back at this rate," Gladio urged them. He had never sat down.

"Right," the prince nodded and pushed himself up. "Let's do this."

* * *

They found what they were looking for sooner than they thought. Or rather, their prey found them. As they made their slow way along the boulders, Ignis halted them again as he noted movement above. Then,

"Everyone, look out!" He called out his spear; the action more than his shout alerted them all to the danger, and as the lone beast dove down, the others called their weapons as well.

It dove to attempt to cleave at Noctis. He had called out his spear, too, and waited, holding his weapon down and doing his best to appear helpless to the beast, making himself the prey it perceived him to be. "Ignis!" At a calculated moment, he thrust the weapon upwards, but it only scraped the surprised animal's wing as it struggled to correct its interrupted dive. Not that it mattered.

With practiced ease, Ignis leaped to bring his polearm heavily across the beast's turned back; the force of the hit smacked it off balance. It fell, flapping its wings to desperately regain control. As it did, Noctis aimed again. This time the steel found its mark; the wyvern screeched in agony as the spear impaled the wing muscles, succumbing into the ground, where its suffering was quickly ended.

Wiping his forehead, Ignis called out, "Remain cautious. I bet the herd heard those cries. There might be more coming."

"About damn time," Gladio smirked as he rolled his shoulder. He had his greatsword out. He didn't need to wait for long. The approaching long howls and the hum of flapping wings reminded them of a huge jet turbine running on maximum power. It intensified as the beasts got closer.

The herd emerged from behind the cliffs above them, circling above, howling little yips and screeches at each other. There were six of them, two a little smaller than the rest. They could smell the blood and the flesh, and it was making them anxious. They floated above them like vultures, assessing them. And when they attacked, they attacked together.

Prompto released a bullet salvo in the general direction of the beasts. He hit something, if the screeches were anything to go by, but as one collided heavily with Gladio's greatsword in an attempt to claw at his chest, or taking a note how Ignis threw himself to roll out of the way of a similar dive, he wasn't so sure this was going to be just a simple hunt. Frankly, he begun to understand why the townsfolk were restless about these things. An ordinary person would probably be torn to shreds!

"Urragh!" With a swish, the heavy weight of the greatsword smashed against leathery skin. There was a wet, rasping roar, and with an unsettling squelch, the bodyguard pulled his blade free from the carcass.

"Gladio, behind you!" Ignis' tone was urgent. Behind him, a creature was diving at him. As he brought the blade up to shield himself, a new round of fire blasted, the creature jerking like it was having a seizure as each bullet hit it. Severely wounded, it fell gracelessly from the sky. The shield waved the gunslinger his thanks, a single jerk of his head his response, and turned his attention back to the creatures.

The stench of gore seemed to be driving them into frenzy. Their noise had grown into predatory howls and they were becoming bolder in their attacks. In the corner of his eye, he took a note how Noctis aimed his spear into the general direction of one of the smaller animals circling them high above the ground. In a flash of white and blue, the prince was slicing at it in the sky.

"Keep it together!" he grunted out loud, directing his words to the prince in particular. He took note of Ignis pushing one down as his spear buried itself into the creature's side, his added body weight enough to throw the animal off. The animal wasn't done fighting, though, and Gladio snorted as he saw it thrash itself free, knocking the adviser down as it rampaged. "Iggy!"

A wild roar of agony sounded just as he was dashing to the adviser's aid. The animal that had been closing in on him was now howling in pain as it trashed its head around blindly, backing away. A golden dagger stuck out of its eye, and Ignis was scampering up, his focused gaze never leaving the beast. He noted movement coming towards him, nodded his understanding at Gladio, and called back his spear. No words were needed, no other exchange but a single nod. In unison the two leaped in the air, landing their strikes in close succession; the beast's howls died down abruptly as the massive force of the greatsword crushed its respiratory organs.

"Nice job, Iggy," Gladio nodded as the men threw a quick fist-bump.

"Hmm. You weren't half-bad yourself," the other nodded with a smirk.

"Yeah. Comes with the package," the shield chuckled, a smirk tugging his lips, too. "How we holding up?"

Noctis had his daggers out, and he was back on the ground, dancing with the other small creature, aiming at its wings and vitals. The animal was obviously young; its attacks were far less precise and suave as the adults', and the constant movement of the human confused it. It struck hastily and carelessly, leaving itself open for the man to land crippling hits. The more injured it got, the sloppier and less frequent became its retaliations until its wounds became overwhelming and it slumped onto the ground, bleeding from over twenty cuts and lacerations, panting in pain and unmoving. It was put out of its misery as the engine blade was thrust into its throat.

The last creature flapping above them let out an enraged roar. All the smells – the blood, the death, the sweat, the adrenaline – were sending it into frenzy. The flapping got more and more intense as its wings packed wind under them, the air moving at incredible speeds as it flapped up a strong gale. The men had to cover their eyes as the winds assaulted them and flying ash and dust stung their vision. The animal shrieked a long cry as it beat the air.

"Can't see shit!" Prompto yelled out, only one watering eye cracked open against the gales.

"Hold on!" came Ignis' reply. He sounded urgent. "Sooner or later it will exhaust its stamina!"

"Is it gonna be 'sooner', though?!" the gunslinger bit back, trying to take aim but it was too much. A reflex pulled his eye closed under the assault.

"It is now!" Noctis' voice carried over. He was shielding his eyes with one hand, peering through slits. Along his other flickered a faint blue light. He would only need to see it for a second. Preparing himself, he closed his eyes to will out the moisture. Then, still shielding his eyes from the intensity of it, he snapped his eyes open against the wind, and saw it clearly for that one necessary second.

It took only a moment. The thunder spell didn't miss by much. The crackles of magic struck the tip of its wing, but it was enough to startle the animal. On instinct it flinched, disrupting the beat of its wings, leaving an opening. And Prompto took it.

Three, four carefully placed shots bore through the joints of its right wing. With an animalistic cry of surprise and agony, the animal was left flapping pathetically as it tried to carry its own weight. The injured wing moved precariously, and the animal stumbled as it fell. It was left prowling on the ground, peering at the men in alert. The injured wing hung limply at its side; it couldn't even pull it to itself. With a sad sigh and a shake of his head, Prompto reloaded his gun – and shot it through the heart thrice.

Near silence descended around them. In addition to wisps of wind and their panting, a few suffering cries of the severely wounded animals were heard. Noctis strolled over to inspect the creature Prompto had shot, although it was pretty pointless. From afar they could tell that one was dead. Its eyes had dimmed, and a sufficient pool of blood spread underneath it. "Nice job, Prompto!" his friend gave him a high-five.

"Nah. No big deal," the blond shrugged, dismissing his gun.

They inspected all the carcasses, and finished off the ones that were still alive. Noctis wiped sweat off his brow as he deemed the last animal dead. "And that takes care of it," he huffed. "Let's head back!"

"Dibs on the shower!" Prompto panted. The shield sneered a little,

"Who says we're gonna have a shower where we're headed for the night?"

"Any puddle will do, I don't care. I'm just calling dibs," the blond shook his head, his breathing labored.

Their way back down the slope was equally slow, although it wasn't nearly as demanding. But they had to be careful about their steps nonetheless. In addition, the heat and the aftermath of the battle were getting to them somewhat. Ignis had them stopping a few times to take a short break; there was no point risking a heatstroke.

They had reached the graveled ground when Ignis saw something, and he wished to the Six he were mistaken. There was no such blessing granted for him, though, and his breath was cut momentarily as he spared a hasty glance at the others, taking in their overall condition, and his dread increased double-fold. "Imperials! Two o'clock!"


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: In case you were under the impression this is going to be a nice hanging-around-for-the-feels story, well, heads-up: it's not. If you're a Prompto lover, dude, you might like to grab a tissue.**

* * *

The others' heads snapped at the direction in break-neck speed. Truly, a dropship lowered itself, its deck already open, and they witnessed about a dozen magitek troopers jumping out of it; someone cursed under their breath. "Just as I thought this party couldn't get any better," Gladio grumbled as he called his weapon back and placed himself readily in front of Noctis.

"Prepare yourselves! Here they come," Ignis shouted, already drawing his daggers out of the eather and stepping to Gladio's side between the younger men and the enemy.

"Right," the raven-hair nodded as he, too, called his weapon back in hand. Prompto raised his gun to take a steady aim at the troopers rushing towards them, their axes raised. The bangs echoed around the rocks hollowly, and the first trooper dropped to the ground.

"Nice one, Prompto!" Noctis cheered before dashing to clash blades with another one. The rusty edge of the magitek's weapon sparked as the sword ground against it.

The forces collided like two waves. On one hand, the men were outnumbered. But their skills far exceed those of the clumsy and simple-minded magitek troopers, and they were making progress. Gladio cleaved a few of them in half in one neat horizontal swing of his blade, and the others tore into their own opponents with less force but even greater precision. They had downed most of them when Prompto cried out, his voice trembling in surprised shock, "There's another one!"

Another dropship had drawn close, already lowering its deck into a ramp. A short distance away, a third ship made its way over to their location. "And there's more! It's an entire fleet!" As he looked around, from every direction an Imperial ship seemed to be approaching. He counted quickly: eleven.

"It's an ambush!" Ignis shouted, striking to impair his current opponent's optic sensors. "We'll be outmatched! Run!"

"Noct! Get out of here!" Gladio grabbed the younger man's shoulder to push him away from the battle as he himself kicked the trooper that tried to swing at the raven.

"Not without you!" the prince spat back.

"Are you demented?! Get going already!"

"But what about–?!" Noctis was interrupted by the adviser's urgent,

"Everyone! Run! Now!"

The additional troops had reached them. These ones armed with swords and some more axes, they were coming at them. Not thinking twice, the Lucians dashed to the opposite direction, hoping to lose them on the terrain.

"Everyone alright?!" Ignis almost barked, his voice intermitted due to running. He noticed something crimson in the corner of his eye and turned briefly to inspect the wound on Gladio's shoulder. "Gladio, you're bleeding!"

"Nevermind that," was the large man's gruff response. "Just keep running!"

"I take it that it's nothing serious the… Shit!" They skidded into an awkward halt one after another as what they saw sunk in. In front of them, another dropship landed its crew to block their way. There were a few shocked gasps; Ignis didn't bother thinking whose. The stomping behind them got closer as their assailants closed in on them.

"This way! Hurry!" He led them to the left, hoping to be able to circle around the supports. His hopes were crushed as the lines of magitek troopers marched towards them from left and right. "No." The gasp was quiet but audible. A sound of utter desperation as the enemy closed in on them from all sides.

"We're surrounded," the adviser grunted out the obvious.

"Any chance of breaking through it?!" The prince's voice carried hints of barely contained panic. His eyes were everywhere, desperately searching for a way out.

Gladio snorted. "Well, if they're expecting us just to lay ourselves down quietly, they'll be mistaken," he grunted.

The magitek troopers surrounded them, forcing them back to back. Ignis pulled Noctis behind him, daggers held defensively in front of him. They fidgeted like that for a few moments, on the edge and ready to fight for their lives when the attack would come. The grotesque machines had their weapons pointed at them, but weren't moving.

"What are they doing?!" the gunslinger burst out. "They're just standing there! Why aren't they attacking?"

"That would be because I've told them not to," came a velvety voice from behind the wall of troopers. A few of them made way, and toward stepped Chancellor Izunia, smiling a sweet smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Would you like them to? I can let them, you know…" As if on cue, one of them leaped to slash its axe at the blond's general direction.

"Prompto!"

He fired out of reflex, splintering the metal frame of its head panel. Its attack faltered, it stumbled forward; a few sparks flew out, and the red of its eyes flickered before fading out. Eyes wide, Prompto shakily lowered the hand that was still aiming the gun to where the creature had been. He let out a shuddering breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. It took a moment for Noctis' hand on his shoulder to register.

Ignis nearly hissed as he spoke, "Izunia. What do you want?"

Those eyes shone with mischief and ominous satisfaction, and everyone gulped in a fearful breath. "I would like you lot to come with us. In particular," he fixed Noctis with an unfaltering stare, "- _you_ , Your Highness."

"Hmph! You expect us to come quietly?" Gladio snapped at him, holding his weapon at the ready. His features were stern, enraged, and he visibly bit his own teeth. The Chancellor eyed the brute in an amused way.

"Ah, Mr. Amicitia. The king's shield. So very much like your father…" Gladio couldn't help hissing at the way the man spoke about him. So… devilishly somehow. "My, that looks dangerous. Let's put those away now, shall we?" He held out his hand, smirking, and suddenly, with a crystalline jingle, their weapons were dismissed.

"Huh?!" Prompto exclaimed as he flexed his empty hand.

"What the…?!" The shield stepped back to take a close combat stance. He felt Noctis' hand on his back as the other swayed a little, feeling lightheaded suddenly.

"You bastard," the prince hissed, "What the hell did you do?!"

The mauve haired man chuckled lightly. "Tell me, prince Noctis, how does it feel? A little... congested?" Noctis gasped audibly. He felt… wrong. Like something was amiss. And he understood what it was as he tried to recall his weapon. It refused to come. His eyes widened.

All of them, out of his reach.

Ignis gulped down the acid from his tongue before speaking, "That is an impressive regiment you have with you, Chancellor." It was mere prattle. Flattery would get them nowhere, he knew that, but for now, playing time was their best option. "What grants us this _pleasure_?" Despite his best efforts, he almost spat out the last word. His heart raced, and he understood that whatever game the man was playing with them, they were nearing the game over, and Ignis wasn't sure this mode had a Continue option. He wasn't sure at all.

There was a glint of something wicked in the man's eyes, and the smirk took a sharp edge. "Why don't you ask your friend?"

The answer caught Ignis off guard. "What?" he let out in a whisper.

Izunia's eyes shifted, and when he spoke, he spoke to someone behind the brunet, "In fact, I should congratulate you, Prompto. You served your purpose better than we thought." He grinned a Cheshire smile and added, "Looks like Besithia did find some use for you, after all."

Ever since the Chancellor had walked in, a growing dread had twisted his insides. He hadn't noticed he had started shaking. And as those words left the Chancellor's lips, Prompto felt his blood turn into ice. Panic unlike any he had ever known washed over him like a high tide; his breaths came in pants, his palms were getting sweaty. "Wha- what?" It was small, and it was pained. His eyes like saucers, the gunner eyed the man in utter horror. Disbelieving, engulfing horror.

The others' gazes shifted from the pompous man to the utterly shaken blond and back. Confusion, disbelief, reluctance to believe what was being said, and the creeping doubt - all of them showed in their faces.

"Prompto?" Noctis asked tentatively.

The blond was shaking his head over and over again. "No." His voice grew more vigorous. "No! It's not like that! I'm not like that!"

"Prompto. What is going on?!" Ignis demanded, his tone taking a piercing edge. The blond ignored him; the sky blue gaze had locked into the amber of the menace wearing an angel smile.

Ardyn chuckled, a sound void of humor and compassion, "But of course you are. Did you really think that being raised Lucian would undo what you are?" All the response he got was a shocked gasp. "Such naivety. And yet you have served the Empire well, little tool," he almost purred as the words rolled from that dangerous tongue.

"What the hell are you saying?!" Noctis snarled, the situation getting the best of him. His emotions flared, the usual cool cracking.

Every fiber in his existence smiled as Ardyn spoke, "Simply this: it is thanks to your dear friend there that we were able to track you, Your Highness."

"What?!" Prompto's eyes went wide; it felt like he was suffocating. This couldn't have been happening! He was trembling from head to toe now, his breaths coming in interrupted, panicked pants. He let out a small yelp as Gladio grabbed him roughly.

"Prompto. What the hell is going on?!" The words were harsh, but Gladio's voice betrayed all the confusion, all the hurt, all the betrayal. He was begging him to tell him he was wrong, that this was all wrong.

Prompto's voice trembled. "Please, Gladdy, it's not what it-"

"Then what is it?!" he roared suddenly, shaking him a little. "What is he talking about, Prompto?!"

"I-" 'It's not like that! I-'

Ardyn feigned shock, "Oh, you hadn't told them, have you? Oh my, did I spill a secret?! My bad." The smirk on those lips sent shivers down Prompto's spine.

"Prompto…" With Noctis' voice came the tsunami of desperation. It was a voice that didn't want to believe. Without thinking, without preparing he glanced at the prince - and his heart skipped a beat. In his eyes he could see a whirlpool of emotions. But he could pick up two: there was betrayal, and there were the seeds of hatred.

Hatred.

Noctis hated him.

"No," he mouthed. 'Noct, please! It's not true! I-I didn't… I never…' In a moment of panic, he jerked himself free from the bodyguard's hold. "You've got it all wrong! I'm a-"

"You're an Imperial tool planted at a young age into Lucis," Ardyn almost hollered, enjoying every second. "And you accomplished your task astonishingly."

The shaken man hissed, "I'm not your plaything."

The man chuckled darkly, "Is that what Lucis made you believe? Such a simpleton." He shook his head mockingly. "That imprint on you is proof enough. You are Imperial property, and as such we'll always be able to track you down."

Prompto gasped, wide eyes moistening up, "You mean…?" His eyes were drawn onto his right wrist, that which he knew hid there, underneath that wristband.

Ardyn's smirk said it all. "Did you really think you could run from us, tool?"

There was a grunt, and Prompto's heart leaped, not too pleasantly. It had been a grunt of disgust. Desperate gaze turned to look at Gladio, the shield eyeing him like he was something abhorrent. The blond gulped, the stare turning his stomach.

Gladio shook his head in disbelief, putting a little distance between himself and the gunner. When he spoke, it was so much more than just an accusation. It was personal; it was vindictive. "Traitor."

Prompto could have sworn his heart stopped beating. His legs were lead as nausea spread through him. "No! It's not like that, I swear! I-I didn't know…!" His voice broke at the end, coming awfully close to a sob. For a moment, there was nothing, nothing but his ragged breathing. Then,

"What are you, Prompto?" Noctis' voice was inconceivable, with an undercurrent of disbelieving rage. It was poison. Poison that went straight to the heart. Prompto wished it would just take him. He wanted to just disappear.

"Do it, little tool," Ardyn taunted, "Let's hear you deny it. If you can, that is."

Prompto found he couldn't. Couldn't because Ardyn was right. "I-" The words died on his lips. What could he possibly say that wasn't another lie? He was done, cornered. His most carefully guarded secret was out, and there was nothing he could do to make it right. Or even less wrong. His knees buckled a little. Ardyn was right! How could he have been so stupid as to let himself think he could change himself?! Change something like that? But like a fool he had tried, tried so hard he had started to believe it. And he could have never imagined how wrong he had been!

He should have known better! Should have understood to stay away! And as Prompto watched in horror how his friends' expressions went from shocked and confused into betrayed and disgusted, he felt his world coming crashing down.

"Guys, please…! Listen, it's not what you think!" he tried.

"Save it," Noctis almost hissed. "I don't wanna hear it." The deep blue of his eyes glimmered with treacherous moisture.

Ardyn had watched the scene unfolding before him with glee. His order was almost missed, "Bring them." As the magitek troopers dashed to grab a hold of them, Prompto's legs gave out. Slumping onto his knees in a broken heap, he watched helplessly how his friends struggled. Gladio managed to smash three of his attackers until they could overpower him. From amidst the chaos he saw one of them bringing something bar-like down into the back of Noct's head; he seemed to freeze for a moment before going still, falling limply against his assailants.

"Noct- ugh!" Ignis was silenced when a heavy kick landed into his gut, the man bending over in agony. Prompto's eyes couldn't help but follow the blood as it spurted from the man's mouth onto the gravel. Ignis' hands were forced behind him cruelly and he was pushed forward.

Prompto didn't resist as he was dragged away. He couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. His legs scraped against ground, but he didn't even notice it. He felt empty, although his mind raced.

Whatever was going to happen to them now was because of him.

They were taken inside one of the dropships. The troopers were half-walking, half-dragging him, holding him from his arms. Prompto winced under their death grip; as if trying to fight it would do him any good at this point.

They stopped abruptly, one of them pushing a panel on the wall. Prompto hadn't realized it was a blast door until it slid aside to reveal darkness. "Uagh!" he gave a surprised yelp when he was shoved inside roughly. He stumbled on numb legs, hands scraping against concrete painfully as he fell. There was a sharp hissing sound, and he was sealed into darkness.

On his hands and knees, Prompto drew in a labored breath after another, willing his limbs to stop shaking. His chest felt like caving in under the pounding of his heart. "Hello?" he croaked out quietly. There was no reply, not even an echo. Forcing his libs to obey, he pulled his knees to his chest and let his head drop as he hugged himself, and let the sobs come.

In his mind, he was back in that same dark place he had been in when he had been younger, alone and forgotten _. 'Mommy, why do the other kids make fun of me?'_ he recalled asking his mother once when he was about five. It was one of his earliest memories; his mother's reply would stay with him forever,

_'It's because you're different, Prompto.'_

He had begun to shake again. Ragged breaths were turning wet. Guilt clenched at his heart, holding it in an icy grip. Was it selfish of him to want to die where he was? By the looks of it, they were doomed anyway.

Prompto didn't dare let the thoughts of what was going to happen enter. They were wanted alive, and for whatever reason it was, it couldn't be anything pleasant. A fresh pang of guilt hit him and he hugged himself tighter for any idea of comfort it brought. He just wanted someone to tell him it was going to be alright. That everything was going to work out alright. But there was no-one, and he knew the things between them would never be alright again.

* * *

**Ardyn <3**

 


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Thank you so much to my beta reader Elillierose on FanFiction.net for the advice on this one. I had a bit of a hard time making it sound the way I wanted it to, but now I can say I'm happy with it. I hope you like it!**

**Also, thank you to all of you who've left comments and especially the critique! Your feedback had me reassess how I want to write the coming events out, and it just made the whole idea of the tone I'll be using a lot clearer.**

**Here's the fourth!**

* * *

The low humming of the crappy air conditioning was the only other sound in the darkness, in addition to his own slow, deep breaths. The ship shook constantly; he could feel the engines as the rattles resonated in the metal structures. A slow inhale, and an even slower exhale.

Prompto lied on his back, splayed on the concrete. He had his eyes open, although it made no difference. His cell had no windows, no lamps, not a single source of light. He had had his cell phone, but that had ran out of battery maybe two hours ago. Or three, or a half, he didn't know. He had no idea what time it was, how long they had been held captive.

He felt cold. Little trembles ran along his limbs constantly; Prompto wasn't sure it had anything to do with the temperature, though. _'Traitor.'_ Everything that had been said rang in his head _. 'Planted into Lucis.'_ He would willingly sacrifice his aim arm to unhear them _. 'Accomplished your task.'_ But apparently they were after his heart instead _. 'I don't wanna hear it.'_ He couldn't help another shuddering sob leaving him. Hear what? His excuses? His… lies? Is that what they thought of him now? Just lies? That he was a… a fake. A set-up. Closing his eyes, the young man brought his hands around his middle tightly; he feared he might just fall apart at seams if he didn't.

'It wasn't my fault!' The man had to bite his cheek, and it wasn't quite enough to entirely stifle the panicked pants hissing out from behind clenched teeth. 'Ho-how could I have known that–?!' He couldn't even finish the thought. Desperate anger flared, and he clawed at the skin on his marked wrist in a futile attempt to rid himself of it. He hated it. Gods, he hated it, and he hated himself! It had never brought him anything but shame and self-loathe. And now, now it was even worse.

No matter how he looked at it, it still stood that they were held by the Empire, on their way to who knows were, and not likely to make it out of there. And they had used him to make it happen! Whatever the enemy had in store for them – their fates, their lives, their deaths – their blood would be on Prompto's hands as well. He chuckled darkly: a sound of immense regret. 'I'm one of them, after all.'

It was a morbid thought, and yet so horribly accurate. What lunacy had come over him for him to think that it could be changed? That anything he did would alter that in any way? When getting rid of it hadn't been an option, he had tried to put it past him. Sometimes he had thought about talking about his origin with Noctis, at a right moment, at a right time. But maybe there hadn't been a right time, or maybe whenever he had tried to summon the courage, he had come to doubt if his friend would accept that after all. 'Too late for that now,' he thought. There was a lump in his throat, and he struggled to breathe around it as the mental image of his friend's shocked face came flooding back. Betrayal. And hurt. The gunner's breaths came in shuddering, shallow gulps; a fresh streak of tears formulated behind his eyes and he fought to keep them from falling.

The concrete sent tiny pin-prickles up and down his arms as hair on them stuck onto the floor a little. He shivered constantly. As he lied there, listening to his own voice trembling, breath after breath, Prompto was sure he could feel his heartbeats grow weaker. He chuckled, a sound void of humor or pleasure. Funny. He never knew heart break was a physical thing, too.

The man felt his mass shifting to the right significantly when the ship seemed to change its course. In a fleeting thought he wondered where they were headed. And how the others were doing. He let out a deep, mortified sigh as he recalled how Noctis' limp form had been carried on board, one magitek soldier on each of his arms, and a third one holding him at gunpoint, as if he could have posed a threat at them even when unconscious. That had been the last he had seen of him. He knew that at least Gladio was held along that same aisle as him, he had been walked not far ahead of him. The shield's hands had been shackled, and a threatening barrel had been pushed into his back as he was forced forward. But what about Ignis? The blond winced at the recollection of the blood. No matter what, that kick was gonna smart; another jab of guilt stung him.

Curling up onto his side, Prompto let his breaths grow shallow as he tried to relax on the cold floor. Despite everything, that clash with the wyverns, now seemingly a lifetime ago, had exhausted him. His dehydrated state made him a bit woozy, and the darkness tempted him with sleep. But his racing thoughts kept his mind on the edge, ignoring the demands of the body. He laid there for a long while, eventually drifting into restless sleep riddled with nameless fear.

* * *

The flight seemed to take forever. He had snapped awake from his uneasy sleep, but it seemed like he'd only caught a moment's rest. Or it could have been a good few hours, but he couldn't tell. His idea of time was twisted. They were still mid-flight, the ship shaking steadily with the roar of the engines. With touch and feel, he had tried to map out the perimeter of his isolation, and was now leaning against the wall he had deemed smoothest. Metal, most likely, instead of concrete. Not much better, but at least it wasn't scratching.

He rested his head against the coolness of it, having his eyes closed in hopes of being able to catch some more sleep. His instincts sharpened, however, as he heard the approaching steps of troopers stomping closer. And stopping close.

"Ah!" With a sharp hiss, he squeezed his eyes, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness assaulting them. He cracked one eye open to peer at the silhouette against the light.

The trooper stepped closer, and instinctively the man felt himself press against the wall tighter, his breath hitching a little in anticipation. It paid him no heed, though, as it simply dropped something to the ground. The faint smell of yeast trailed over. His brows furrowed.

If they honestly thought he would eat from the floor, they were sadly mistaken.

The trooper turned practically on its heels, not sparing a glance at the captive as it went to leave him. Knowing it wouldn't be for long, Prompto used what light he had left eyeing at the items on the floor sceptically. A water bottle. And a chunk of bread. Unwillingly, the man licked his dry lips. The water, he might have to surrender to that. But fuck that bread. He might have been a captive, he might have been a lot of things at that moment, but there was a limit. Pushing himself off the wall, he lunged to snatch the bottle before the door slid shut and his world went dark again.

Feeling the coolness in his hand, the man pondered if this was a good idea. The cap of it had been replaced, which didn't really comfort him at all. Would they go as far as to put something into it? Probably not poison, though, as it seemed they were wanted alive, but drugs? Maybe a precaution, to make sure they'd come quietly? But… as he realized just how long it had been since he last drank, just how parched his throat felt, he understood he had no choice.

As the water touched his tongue, his self-control seemed to slip. Prompto went from tentative to voracious in an instant as the liquid soothed his ache. The thought that this was a bad idea drummed in the back of his head, but right now he didn't care. For now, he was grateful of any amount of relief he was allowed, no matter how small. He emptied the bottle almost ravenously, crunching it before tossing it across the darkness. It landed with a skidding sound somewhere to his left.

* * *

"… seventy-seven… seventy… eight," he huffed as the elbows met the knees. "Seventy-nine." He barely paused as his shoulders met the floor before pulling himself to sit up again. "And that's a second eighty!" he huffed as he relaxed his posture, wiped his brow a little. "Good enough." Lying back to his back, he tapped his stomach lightly to relax the muscles and stretched.

How long was this flight going to take?! Prompto could swear they had been airborne for an entire day already! Or night, or the second day! He had fallen back to sleep some time ago, only to wake up some time later, and apparently he hadn't missed a goddamn thing. They were still moving steadily, and he was beginning to think they were on their way out of the very Eos with how long this was taking! Really, he had a hunch where they were headed, especially since it seemed to take this ridiculously long to get to, but… he really wished he was wrong.

It was cold. He noted how the temperature had really gone down, and the hair on his arms stood as he shivered. His teeth chattering lightly. Grunting, he flipped onto his stomach and started pushing himself up from the floor. "One… two… three…" He went slowly, mainly to work some warmth into his limbs. And eventually his teeth quieted down. "Seventeen… eighteen…"

Until suddenly they seemed to slow down, and the tremors subsided as auxiliary engines were cut off.

Had they arrived?

Now instantly alert, dropping himself onto his hands and knees, Prompto tried to piece together the clues. It felt like the movement had slowed down. Like they were hovering in place. He heard mechanical howling sounds as the ship's pressures were adjusted and felt the change in the angle of the hull. He could hear the troopers' thumping steps going back and forth behind the door. Then there was the hissing sound and the light as the door slid open.

With a few brisk steps, he was yanked up harshly, and he let out a gasp as his wrist was pulled sharply up into the middle of his back. "Alright! Alright," he yelped, raising his other hand to show that he wasn't resisting as he was forced to walk.

The ship had landed; its ramp was already down, and Prompto could see lights outside as he was dragged towards the exit. There were a lot more steps and a familiar scoff, and he dared to peer behind him. Ignis was being walked much the same way he was: two soldiers, having the adviser in a death grip.

"Ignis!" The man's attention piqued, the green eyes glanced at him. "Iggy, are you–agh!" Prompto tried but was interrupted as he was shoved forward to shut him up. Biting his teeth, he obeyed, seeing that it would do him no good not to. Just going along with it for now seemed like the best course of action, and reluctantly the gunner allowed himself to be walked out of the ship.

His heart skipped a beat as what he saw sunk in. The cityscape extended into every direction, buildings upon buildings as far as the eye could see. They were high above the ground, on a landing dock, and the elegant architectural achievement standing directly in front of them imposing and grandiose as it stood tall above its surroundings. It was circular in shape, looking like an arena, and cold tremors ran along his spine.

Prompto jumped at the feeling of the iron grip being replaced with a cold, metallic kiss on both of his wrists as they were jerked behind him. There was a meaningful clack, and on instinct he jerked against the tension. The metal dug into the skin more tightly, the shackles allowing zero movement as it forced his shoulders into an uncomfortable angle. There was a mechanical hand on his shoulder, but it wasn't gripping him. It was simply a warning, telling him not to get any clever ideas. There was another metallic sound as Ignis' hands were secured, and the adviser was pushed to stand next to him. Daring to steal a glance at the older man, Prompto noted that he at least appeared to be alright. Ignis had his chin lowered, but the green eyes were hard and trained onto something in the distance.

There were lines of magitek units standing at attention, and three figures were approaching them. As they came closer, Prompto recognized the features he had only ever seen in pictures. The Emperor Aldercapt looked pleased as he came closer, two adjutants walking briskly behind him.

There was a loud grunt, and the blond's breath hitched. Gladiolus' face looked pained as he was almost dragged out of the ship, and the blood on his face looked fresh. The man struggled, looking furious, but it died down as a trooper raised his rifle and smacked the butt of the gun across the back of the brute's head. His knees gave out under the assault, and in the moment of weakness, the man was restrained. He was kicked into the stomach, a loud grunt leaving him, before he was yanked up from the ground and forcibly brought to stand with the others, still a little bent over with the pain.

Aldercapt and his men stopped a reasonable distance away, looking at the dropship expectantly. From inside emerged Ardyn Izunia, light breeze swaying his hair a little as he strode over, a victorious smile plastered onto his face. Stopping a few steps in front of the emperor, he brought a hand over his chest and bowed his head a little. With a chuckle, the older man motioned him to carry on. "Chancellor," came his one-word greeting.

"Your Grace."

"I take it you have the boy?" Without a word, Ardyn's smile widened into a self-satisfied smirk and he motioned to someone behind him.

Soon enough, Noctis was dragged out as well, a trooper twisting his arm into his back and gripping his hair, forcing his head back. Prompto felt himself freeze. "Noct!" The prince glanced at them, and the gunner's breath hitched. It was a look of utter bewilderment and terror, like a cornered animal, and he felt himself moving on autopilot. He made a move to go to him, his restraints and their situation momentarily forgotten. The moment was short-lived, though, as he was ruthlessly jerked back, and Noctis was shoved forward, cutting off his line of sight. In the corner of his eye Prompto saw the other Crownsguards struggling, but their efforts were just as futile.

With a weight pressing down into the back of his knee, Noctis was pushed onto his knees in front of Aldercapt and his head was jerked back, forcing him to look at him. Visibly snarling, the young man forced a defiant look as he was assessed shamelessly.

Aldercapt smiled a smile that, if you didn't know better, could have been mistaken to be gentle. "Welcome to Gralea, prince Noctis," the old man mused. "This is indeed a pleasure." Noctis hissed from behind his teeth.

The older man sauntered to stand above him, and without a warning, he gripped the prince's chin firmly. Forcing his head to the side, Aldercapt seemed to study him, a ruthless glint in those peering eyes. "So this is whom is said to be the King of Kings… Just a child," he mused. "You're no king, boy. You know nothing of true power. You're just a fool. Like your father." A spark ignited in the twilight eyes, and against his better judgement, he spat.

The world seemed to stand still as the Emperor slowly brought a hand to wipe his eyes. Noctis was glaring at him furiously, his breaths ragged. He let out a strangled yelp as his head was jerked back, almost cutting off his airway. "You shouldn't have done that, boy," Aldercapt said, voice condescending, as he motioned to his left. Noctis didn't care; he struggled as much as he was able, fixing the other with a murderous look. He was cut off with a nervous sound.

"Noct!" Ignis' tone was frightened, a warning, and the sheer unusualness of it was enough to catch the other's attention. Glancing at them, the blue eyes widened as he took in the sight of the adviser, hands behind his back, head yanked back, a ragged blade posed across his throat.

With a shuddering intake of breath, the prince froze up, not daring to breathe as his gaze met Ignis'. The green eyes were wide, pleading, silently begging the prince to do as he was told for once in his life, for his sake.

What else could he possibly do? Doing his best to show his surrender, Noctis tore his eyes from his friend to gaze meaningfully at the emperor.

The older man seemed to take great pleasure in observing the change in his young captive's demeanor. The prince went from furious to completely subdued in a matter of moments when his friend was threatened. A weakness the emperor was going to exploit. "It would be in your best interest to comply, Your Highness," Aldercapt spoke casually, but the threat underneath was obvious, "If you value the wellbeing of your friends." He smirked openly at the gasp the young one couldn't quite stifle. The piercing blue eyes were left glaring daggers at him, but the look had lost its edge. Chuckling to himself, Aldercapt decided he had seen enough. Turning his back, he flicked his wrist at the troopers holding the Crownsguards. "Take them away."

"Wait! What're you gonna do to them?!" Noctis had probably aimed for spiteful, yet his demand came out near desperate. He caught all of their eyes as the troopers started to drag them away.

"They'll be safe. As long as you behave," Aldercapt spoke over his shoulder as he started for the building. His empty demands dying on his lips, Noctis was left gazing after them as they were dragged away, one by one.

* * *

The heavy stomps of the troopers echoed lowly in the moist stone walls as they descended the circular stairs. The staircase had a few small windows through which the fading daylight peered inside, but it was hardly enough to provide enough light to actually see well.

Prompto took note how the temperature seemed to drop a little at about every ten stairs. It was like going into a wine cellar. A nasty feeling tickled his throat, his breaths grew a bit labored as he fought his growing discomfort with narrow spaces.

They were led through various corridors, but eventually they reached what could only have been called a cellblock. Along the aisle were maybe a dozen cells; each small space was enclosed with brick or natural stone and heavy duty steel bars.

The gunner was stopped in front of the one closest to the door on the right. Prompto gulped as he felt unnatural fingers fumbling with his bindings, the metal eventually coming off, and he was pushed inside. "Ah!" Taking a few fumbling steps, he quickly assessed his new surroundings: limited by a natural stone wall to his right and a brick one to the left, the space was hardly larger than a broom closet. At least there was a window. There was a sound of locking behind him, and he spun around to slam himself against the bars. "Wait!" For what? The magitek soldier didn't even glance at him before heading for the door.

On the other side of the aisle, Ignis was shoved into his cell, much in the same manner as the younger one. Rubbing his abused wrists, the strategist turned to observe their captors as he leaned himself against the bars, eyeing them venomously.

It was the shield who refused to go quietly. Struggling all the way as he was walked along the aisle, he gave the troopers a nasty piece of his mind as he tried to yank himself free on every step. He was walked out of the others' sight, further down the aisle, but soon they heard a cell door opening, then a dull thwacking sound as something heavy met flesh. "Argh!"

"Gladio?!" Ignis' instincts flared. "Gladio! Stop struggling. Just go with it, for now!" A disoriented groan of pain was all the answer he got before they heard the heavy thump as his mass fell onto the floor. There was a scraping sound before he was sealed up with a signifying click. Ignis and Prompto both leaned into their bars, as far as they were able, trying to catch a glimpse, hear a sound, any hint of the shield's condition. The troopers peered around a little as they passed them by but didn't stop. The door let out a rusty creak as it was pulled closed behind them. An eerie silence settled over the captive men.

"Gladio?" Prompto called out tentatively. "Gladdy, you ok?" He got no reply, and his breath hitched.

Ignis shook his head and he gave a heavy sigh and went to slump against the brick. He rested his head against it and closed his eyes. Prompto gulped as he observed his eerily calm demeanor. There was something disturbingly fallacious about it. "Iggy?"

"Be quiet." The blond winced at the tone. It was thick with barely contained rage.

"Iggy, please, listen! I know this looks bad–"

"I said," Ignis snapped, the acidy eyes cutting over, "be quiet." He held a meaningful pause. "I think enough has been said as it is."

It stung, it stung him deep. But Prompto would be damned if he would just let it go. "No! You don't get it! I had nothing to do with this!"

"Then what?" Ignis' voice rose. "Care to explain how this happened?"

"I didn't know, alright?!" Prompto's voice took a pleading tone. It wasn't fair! How should he have known?! How could he have possibly?

Ignis scoffed incredulously, shaking his head. "Is that your excuse? 'You didn't know?'" He turned his eyes into the floor. Prompto grit his teeth.

"I know what you think. And it's wrong. I'm not an enemy, Iggy. It's not an act, I swear. I'm in this as much as you, aren't I?!" The strategist fixed him with a scrutinizing look, as if he was looking for any clues of the blond's loyalty.

"Tell me something, Prompto," Ignis begun, his tone telling the other he had exactly one chance to explain himself, "Why did the Chancellor call you a 'tool'?"

Prompto gulped as his gaze wandered to his wristband. His throat felt dry suddenly, and his breath caught a little. "It's… it's complicated. I-I'm not quite sure how it works myself," he said quietly.

Ignis' eyes flashed with something sharp. "You know that translates into you pleading guilty?" The younger man gulped.

"It's not that! I-" Prompto grabbed the bars, his voice equal amounts of desperation and frustration. "I don't know what happened, alright?! It's the truth!"

The strategist studied him, seeming to weigh his words. Until,

"I wish it were."

* * *

**AN2: Lol, holy shit, he's fit! :D I probably couldn't do a first eighty sit-ups. I'm a wreck.**


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

 

**AN: Disclaimers and discussion exceptionally at the end.**

**Beta read again by Elillierose.**

* * *

He couldn't sleep. He had tried to, but after at least an hour of twisting and turning on the plankboard bunk, he had given up on that and resulted into just lying still and listening to the soft snores around him. Every once in a while his heart rate went up when he thought he heard the approaching footsteps or someone clocking a gun somewhere, but eventually he relaxed again as nothing came through that door.

Moonlight poured in through the small window, and the sky blue eyes were drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Despite it all, in the midst of this hell, the cold light gave him an odd sense of reassurance. It brought back memories. Precious memories.

Back in Insomnia – 'Back home,' he thought – before the Empire, before all this shit… He and Noctis had often used to grab a few beers and go drink in a park. They'd spend hours like that, hanging around and boozing a little, and just enjoying themselves. The blond heaved a sigh. He would give anything to be able to just return to that. Just undo everything and go back. Back to when things hadn't been this messed up. When Insomnia hadn't been at war and they hadn't been the number one on the Empire's Most Wanted.

His fingers twitched as they again flexed around nothing. For the umpteenth time he had tried to summon his weapon, coming up with nothing. He was having a hard time remaining calm about it when every instinct screamed at him it wasn't a good sign.

Had something happened to Noctis?

'No,' he scolded himself. No, he wasn't going to go there! Noctis was fine! 'Slap, Prompto! Slap for even considering it.' It wouldn't make sense for the Empire to just off him so suddenly, right? After all that trouble capturing him? They hadn't been able to conjure their weapons since whatever the hell it was that that bastard Ardyn had done with his hand, he reminded himself, so that didn't mean anything. That didn't mean Noct was… He gulped, unable to see that thought to its end. It simply meant that they were held by the enemy; separated from each other; and unarmed. Which didn't really sound much better. '...Shit,' he mouthed quietly. They were really in deep this time, he thought sadly. Perhaps too deep.

There was a sound of fabric shifting against a hard surface, and a groggy grunt before the near silence descended again. The blond listened only half-heartedly; grief held onto his heart like a hand grenade, ready to pull the pin at any minute.

In the darkness of the night, Prompto sent a silent prayer to the Six. He would give anything. It didn't matter to him what the price tag was, he would give anything if only it meant that the others made it out of here.

* * *

The prince let his fingers trace idly along the delicately ornamented windowsill. He leaned his forehead against the cool glass, eyeing his own reflection against the dark night. He gave a humorless chuckle; he looked like a hobo, almost. He was still in his battle-tattered clothes, having refused the change of garments offered to him; the dark blotches of animal blood had sunken into the fabric, mattifying the material where the splatters had landed. His hair was a mess, and although he had washed his face, it hadn't helped the dark bags of exhaustion under his eyes. He felt tired, but not sleepy, intriguingly. Not with this kind of worry twisting his insides. He heaved a sigh, the breath fogging the glass as tiny little prickles of moisture gathered on the surface.

The room spelled splendor. The high walls were a royal shade of red, contrasted with white and steel décor as was fitting to the technical advances of Niflheim. The furniture was generous and sophisticated, and on the opposite side from the solid wood bedframe, an electrical fireplace flickered to invite him to lounge in front of it.

It was a magnificent prison. But a prison nonetheless. Suspended almost three hundred feet from the ground, nothing but plain stone and untrimmed windows, the room was inescapable. On the other side of the door were at least four guards, ready to take him out the second he stepped through. He grimaced at the clogged feeling he got as he again tried to call to his magic. It was like banging on a barred door: he knew that what he was after was on the other side but there was an obstacle.

Without his abilities, he was trapped. Unable to warp, he would most likely end up a wet red stain on the pavement far down below if he tried the window. And going against the troopers unarmed would be a wasted attempt. He wasn't handicapped on unarmed combat, the curtesy of Gladio's, naturally, but four against one was trying his luck. And even if he did manage to escape, he was still confined within the Imperial palace and no clue where to go.

Another sigh left him, and his eyes slid closed. A deep wave of ominousness swept over him again. Somewhere deep inside, he had had a hunch that this was going to eventually come to this. Somewhere between the fall of Insomnia and his presupposed destiny to form the bonds with gods, deep inside Noctis had come to understand that all this was eventually going to claim his life. Eventually, in some way or another. He hadn't had the courage to really embrace that thought, though, not to its fullest extent. And he hadn't expected it to be this soon.

He shuddered as a shaky breath left his throat. Execution. There was going to be a public execution. Tomorrow. A lump rose to his throat at that, and the young man felt his arms tremble.

The will of the Emperor formulated into a single, cruel truth: he was going to die tomorrow, and as he was now, he was powerless to do anything about it.

_"Where are they taking them?!" Noctis snarled at the older man, still on his knees but struggling against the hold on his arms. They had been dragged out of his sight, Prompto having been the last one. The blond had tried to fight it, had called out to him, Noctis had seen his mouth moving, but couldn't make out what was being said. But it was the intense look on his eyes. The gunner had looked… desperate. Pleading. "What're you gonna do to them?!"_

_Aldercapt's steps halted, but he didn't turn to face him, merely spoke over his shoulder. "You shouldn't worry about your companions, Highness. I told you: you behave, they shall go unharmed." He held a small pause before smirking, "Am I not a man of my word?"_

_The prince scoffed. "The same word you gave my father?!" There was a chuckle._

_"Your father was a foolish man, boy. Foolish, and gullible. He didn't see what was unfolding in front of him."_

_"You have no idea what my father thought, you bastard! He wasn't blind!" the raven spat. "What do you want with us?"_

_Finally, the man turned to face him again. He observed the young man in silence, his composure betraying nothing but his glee, which was painfully obvious. There was a degree of malevolence to it; Noctis found it almost sickening how the man enjoyed this._

_"What I want, boy," the man started, taking a few slow steps closer as he spoke, "–is your head." Noctis couldn't help a gasp; a sound the man seemed to take great pleasure in hearing. "To see the end of the Caelum bloodline, and your accursed existence." The old voice had grown sinister. "To cut that meagre bond to the Crystal, once and for all, as your corpse is splayed on display at the gates of the citadel."_

_His heart had sunk, the sheer cruelty and malice in that tone chilling him to the core. Such hate towards him, such will to see him desecrated like that! He struggled as the man came closer, suddenly more intimidated than he would have liked to admit. It seemed to please the Emperor as he sneered at him, "I suggest not to get any clever ideas. Otherwise, I'm afraid your dear friends would end up paying for it dearly."_

_Despite his quivering heart, anger ignited in him at those words. At that promise of pain to them. "You bastard! How dare you…?!"_

_"Do not think you'd be able to intimidate me, boy," the older man had the nerve to laugh. "You're like a dog barking at a mountain to move. Lucis has lost this futile little battle already. Do you honestly believe that anything you say would hold any power over me?" Seeing the shaken look on the young man's demeanor, the Emperor smiled almost sweetly. "That is what I thought." Shaking his head, he turned to return to the citadel. "Make no mistake, Highness, the fate of those friends of yours as well as your own rests on my palm. Now, if you just come quietly, there will be no need to make a mess, now is there? But please," he turned to shoot him with one more meaningful look, "–do try me if you like."_

How were they? Noctis pulled himself up to stand properly, only to gaze at the moon high in the sky; he wondered where they were being held. And if they were alright. Against all his principles, and most of his morale, he had let himself be pushed around, for the sole reason of not giving the sadistic bastard a reason to hurt them. And yet he couldn't trust that. The asshole had proven his "trustworthiness" by attacking Insomnia at the wake of that supposed peace-treaty. The man had "given his word". A word that meant nothing at all. And yet it meant everything. He had promised they'd go unharmed if he obeyed. A promise he didn't believe in for a second, but had no other option but to trust. The Emperor had no reason to hurt them as long as they were the leverage, as long as he obeyed, but he had no reason not to, either. And considering the sadistic bastard's idea of entertainment, Noctis really couldn't rest easy. He could only hope that seeing his surrender was enough.

His heart tugged at the thought of what could have been done to them. And especially at the dawning of something else… The look on Prompto's face as he had been walked out of the airship. And again when they had been taken away, when he had tried to fight it. The blond had been chained like the others, something that Noctis really only realized just now, and the look on his face, it had been one of pure fear for his friend's safety. He remembered the way the gunner had tried to get to him, looking like it was all that mattered to him, before he had been shoved, the trooper cutting his line of sight. But Prompto had looked so determined, so sincere. So… honestly worried about him.

A jab of guilt stung him a little. When he really thought about it, he couldn't really fathom the thought of Prompto being a schemer. That he would have planned doing something like this, on purpose? It just seemed somehow unbelievable, despite all this. And the way they were treating him, like a stranger. Like an enemy. It seemed off, too. True, he didn't understand what was going on, and yes, the way Prompto had reacted had been less than impressive, but… did he really believe his best friend had been a… a spy all along?

No. No, he didn't. The way his friendship with Prompto had developed, the way they were when they spent time together… It seemed too spur-of-the-moment, too unpremeditated. Too honest. Yes, there was definitely something Prompto wasn't telling, but… for some reason, Noctis couldn't bring himself to think it made him his enemy per se. An instinct told him there was something else behind all this, and the prince had always been prone to trust his instincts. He didn't understand what was going on, but something told him the blond hadn't, either. And his earlier reaction flashed in his mind. The way he had just allowed himself to be, he understood now, manipulated. How he had just shot the sharpshooter down like that. He chuckled darkly at the irony of the thought, but it didn't ease his embarrassment. He had overreacted, be it for the adrenaline or the fear in the situation or whatever, but now, in the hindsight, cutting him down like that when Prompto had obviously tried to explain… He heaved an embarrassed, guilty sigh. Gods, he was the worst. Prompto must have thought he hated him, with a reaction like that, and truthfully, Noctis couldn't but blame himself if he did. If he could, he'd take it back. Apologize to the blond and hear him out for what he had to say. But… He took a grim look around the luxurious room.

But it looked like his chance had passed him by a long time ago.

* * *

The door was slammed open as two magitek troopers almost stormed into the cellblock. Prompto woke up with a startle, scampering up from the plankboard clumsily as apprehension burst into his blood stream in the form of adrenaline. His eyes were all over the place, the memories of the days before catching up with him. 'Right…' He gulped in anticipation as the troopers came to a stop behind his door.

He had backed away subconsciously as the guard fumbled with the lock. But now as the both of the gruesome creatures stepped into the already crammed space, nervousness flared in him; his back pressed against the far wall in a desperate attempt to gain some space. "Wha-what are you doin'?!" he demanded weakly, a degree of fear in his voice.

He got no reply as one of them roughly yanked him off the wall. "Eah?!" His head spun a little as he was slammed chest first into the brick stone, head jerked back, air escaping his lungs. A heavy weight held him in place, pressing into his upper back borderline painfully. He struggled to breathe, drawing in shallow, rapid gasps.

One of them crushed him against the wall, and the other reached out to grab something. Prompto gasped in surprise as his right arm was pulled out, and he felt fumbling around his wrist, over his band. Then in dawned to him. The initial unease exploded into full-blown panic and a cold lump settled into his gut as he understood. "Let go of me!" He tried to struggle, tried to pry his arm free, but froze as he saw a gleam of steel in the corner of his eye and felt the kiss of metal ghosting over his skin.

His breaths were ragged with fear; a small whimper escaped him. Ignoring him, the guard grabbed his arm tighter as it thrust the piece of metal against the skin. Prompto gasped at the rough tugging motion, tried to jerk his hand away, only to find it being held in a death grip. He couldn't help shudders racing up and down his spine as the halves of the band slid against skin and off. His arm was turned so that his code was clearly visible, and something was stuck against it. He dared a glance at the cylinder-shaped object.

The signifying beep made his heart skip a beat; a small gasp escaped unwanted. This wasn't happening! It was beyond humiliating. It was sacrilege! A green light flashed alit at the corner of the device, and his arm was released. The blue eyes were wide with equal amounts of surprise and disbelief as he felt the weight being lifted from him. He understood, though; the first tugs of nausea bubbled in his stomach, raising the taste of bile into his mouth. He cradled his right arm into his chest, clasping the wrist like his life depended on it. He was left shaking, drawing in shaky breaths through his nose; the guards paid him no more heed as they simply turned to leave, apparently done with him. Whatever it was exactly that they had wanted – _'To check_ ,' he thought, hissing with bitterness and humiliation – they got it.

He had never felt so used. It was degrading. In a violating way, almost. It was enough to make him feel disgusted with himself. And as he fought the rising nausea, he felt eyes on him and slowly, slowly turned to gaze at the strategist.

Ignis had risen to sit up on his bunk. The poker face betrayed nothing of what the man was thinking, but the green eyes were keen as he studied the blond. Prompto felt his shoulders go slack as he sighed a shuddering breath. He was positive Ignis had paid attention. To all of it. "You saw that, didn't you?"

"Yes." A bit surprisingly to Prompto, the tone didn't sound bitter. It didn't sound like anything, really. It was almost… lost. Like he didn't know what to make of what had just occurred.

"All of it?" His only reply was a silent nod, then,

"What was that about, Prompto? What is that mark?"

He gulped, his eyes lowering to the ground. He didn't know what to tell him, how to answer that question himself. He had never talked about it with anyone who didn't already know, those selected individuals being his parents. Prompto took a moment to think about how to put it. As if to summon the courage, he inhaled deeply. "I don't know that much about it, honest," he started. "Just that I've always had it. Like… like all involved with the magitek tests do." He paused, risking a glance at the strategist's expression; he felt his eyes widen. Ignis looked nothing short of shocked. Whatever the man had anticipated, it hadn't been this. A confession like this. Catching the rising tension, Prompto hurried to continue, "I swear, Iggy, I always thought that it was nothing. Just, like a brand or a… a tattoo or something. I never knew that…" His blabbering voice faded into unsureness. He didn't know how to word what was on his mind. He didn't need to, though. Ignis beat him to it. The emerald flashed dangerously as the adviser pieced together the information.

His voice like poison, the adviser practically hissed, "Prompto. Do you mean to tell me that… that mark is what the Chancellor meant when he said that the Empire had been able to track us?" Prompto could swear that something in the man's whole demeanor changed. Ignis looked like a snake, snarling with his eyes, that sharp tongue fire and ice. He couldn't hold the gaze; the blue eyes averted to the ground, in shame, and in fright. He had never seen Ignis like this, and it frightened him. Frightened him to know he was the cause behind it.

"I-I guess," he shrugged. "I didn't know it… it does anything. It doesn't feel like anything, so I always thought it was nothing."

Anger had furrowed the hazel-brown brows, Ignis' tone rising, "And were you perhaps planning on mentioning this at some point?" Prompto gulped. He had. Planned on it, really. On several occasions. But there was a reason he hadn't gone through with it. He had feared that this would happen. That this would be their reaction. He felt his heart quaking. It looked like he had been right.

Not that it mattered anymore.

"I meant to, really. It's just that I… I was afraid what you guys would think of it," he said, voice colored with regret.

Ignis' eyes were on the blond as if he had tried to pry out what the blond wasn't saying. He took a moment to weigh the words. "Although I understand why that'd keep you, Prompto, I cannot accept that you were carrying something like that and said nothing about it. Had we known about it, we could have figured it out. Found out how it works. Made plans, Prompto!" He held a pause. "Now we were picked up like berries by the Empire. We had no way we could have expected an ambush; we were caught completely off guard, and now they have him, Prompto. They have Noct."

The younger man's jaw hung slack, his posture slumped to sit on the floor. He felt horrible. So riddled with guilt and regret, Prompto wanted to just disappear. He didn't want to hear what he sensed was coming. Didn't want to, knowing Ignis was right. Knowing he deserved it.

Ignis scoffed, the sound spiteful more than anything. "So congratulations, Prompto." The adviser went as far as to clap his hands slowly a couple of times. "They have him now, and it is indeed as the Chancellor said, thanks to you."

* * *

**AN2: I had someone leave a review in which they suggested that perhaps Noct hasn't turned against Prompto after all, at least not entirely. Well, you were right. He hadn't, not entirely. And I know a few people have been expecting them to just talk Prompto's situation out and come clean about it. I have plans about how this's gonna unfold, so bear with me? It is gonna unfold, later. It can't be all rain and no rainbows, after all. I wouldn't have the heart. (I would, actually.)  
**

**I loved writing that Aldercapt scene! ^..^ The next chapter's gonna be where I'm getting back to the present time, or to the events of the opening, and gotta say I'm looking forward to writing that.**

**And just a disclaimer: yeah, I'm including mentions of drinking. Lol, I dunno about the legal drinking age in Insomnia, but to a European, these guys definitely seem old enough. So no, not implying underage boozing, in case anyone is concerned about that.**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: This isn't nice.**

**Really, this and the following chapters are the reason why this is rated M, just to be on the safe side.**

**I am so happy how this chapter turned out, though! Really. It is exactly how I wanted it. I hope you'll like it, at least on some levels, lol.** **And sorry it's a bit short, but I just really, really, really had to have that ending.  
**

* * *

Prompto felt the sun rays warming his cheek, and half-lidded eyes turned to gaze at the sky absentmindedly out of the small glassless window. The cool stone against his back made chills run along his spine despite the gentle warmth. He could hear the cheering crowds outside, but the sound seemed dreamlike. So distant and out of place.

He could have never imagined it'd turn out like this.

He jumped a little at the sound of a weight colliding with the bars further down the hollow hall, then Gladio's heartfelt curses as the metal refused to surrender. With a timid sigh, Prompto dragged himself to sit on his knees and grabbed a hold of the bars that sealed him up into the cramped space of his own, and tried to peer his eyes over to the brute man. "Gladio…"

"I hope you are happy now." Prompto couldn't help a gasp escaping at the sound of Ignis' icy tone; the sound was drenched with malevolence and hate, and it made the blond shiver and swallow.

'Please…' "Iggy, I–"

"Don't you dare speak to me, filth!" he hissed, cutting a venomous glare at the blond to silence him. The pleading look on the other's face was ignored.

In his own cell across the aisle, Ignis leaned against the bars, clenching them with both hands, glaring bloody murder at the younger man. The blond felt his lips moving but nothing came out. Fear, primal and desperate, clenched his chest.

'Please! I-I didn't mean to…!'

_"Ladies and gentlemen!"_ Although morphed a bit by static, glee and satisfaction were audible in the age-worn voice blasting from the speakers. The cheers of the crowd got louder. _"Welcome to witness history to be made. The day that marks the dawn of a new era!"_

"You belong out there, Prompto. Instead of him," Ignis declared coldly. His hard eyes never left the other's; he didn't even blink.

'No! I didn't know! I swear I didn't know…!'

_"Welcome to witness the day-"_

'It wasn't my fault!'

_"-the last king of Lucis dies!"_

"I didn't know this would happen!" the gunner tried. "I swear!" The blood thumped in his ears so fiercely he feared his heart was going to burst. He winced visibly at the sound of horns blowing fanfares outside, and the noise of the crowd took a greedy edge. "I didn't want this." They didn't really think he did, did they? How could they?!

Ignis scoffed, snarling as he pushed himself off the metal. "Do you think it matters any at this point?" His voice broke at the end, and he turned his back to the younger man.

"Leave him, Iggy!" Gladio grunted loudly. "We need to get out of here! Noct needs us!" There was another intense clanging sound, a grunt of pain, the sound of flesh hitting solid rock. "Dammit! It's not budging!"

"Cease it, Gladio!" Ignis had perked up at the sound of the other's pain. "It's no use! We don't need you ending up hurting yourself!"

"I'll be happy to cut off my right arm and leg if it gets us out of this cell!" the shield's voice spat back as he again banged himself against the metal, in desperate hopes of breaking through. "Dammit, don't you get it?! He needs us!" The voice was strangled and desperate, on the verge of breaking.

Ignis looked like he bit his cheek, and he had to blink to push back that treacherous moisture that had gathered behind his eyes. "I know!" A fist flew against the concrete, the surface scraping the skin, but the adviser didn't even flinch at that. An agonized snarl distorted his features. The man's shoulders shook.

Prompto's heart was in his throat as he sat on limp legs, taking in the on-the-verge-of-breakdown state of the other. He had never seen Ignis like this, so out of control, so lost. Ignis, who would always remain calm, always see the reason in the chaos, now so close to crumbling down, in front of him. It was disturbing. And Gladio. Gladio, whose resolve was practically unconquerable, now barely holding it together as the sounds of him slamming himself against the metal increased in frequency and in volume. Almost as if he was fearing it wasn't going to work. As if he was losing hope.

"Guys?" he started. "Guys, we cannot give up! C'mon! There's gotta be a way!"

"If I were you, Prompto, I would hold my mouth shut!" Gladio barked. "Do you think we're not trying?!"

"I–"

He was cut off by the blow of the horns outside, and the sound of something huge moving, scraping against ground and wringing around metal. He gulped; it sounded like they were running out of time. "No…"

* * *

The half-lidded eyes gazed up and down the impressive-looking gates almost disbelievingly. He traced the sculpted figures on them absentmindedly, the sound of blood pulsing in his ears drawing most of his attention. Every other intake of breath was a greedy gulp in the middle of shuddering gasps. Through a fog he heard the crowds, their cheers. Their eagerness. It made his stomach turn, to think what they had come to witness.

There was a muffled sound of someone speaking into a microphone, but the stone made the words indistinct. He could guess what was being said, though, as the crowds suddenly burst into roaring applause that carried through the thick wall in muffled noise of enthusiasm.

A magitek soldier on each side of him grabbed a bit firmer hold of his arms, the grip tight enough to feel uncomfortable. The ominous jingle the chain between the handcuffs made as it dangled against his knees made a shudder run down his spine, as if the sound had sealed his fate. Solidified what was about to happen as the muffled yet joyous sound of the horns carried through, and the humongous doors begun to pull apart.

Slowly, slowly the grandiose doors slid ajar, revealing a vast sandlot, surrounded from all sides by the rising grandstand. Even from afar, Noctis could tell by the lively moving mass that the place was chock-full. He could hear the crowds clearly now, and gulped as he made out what was being chanted,

_'Off with his head.'_

His heart leaped, feeling like it tried to tear itself out of his chest. He had tried to prepare himself for this, to be ready when the time would come. But how can you prepare for something like this? You can't! His heart was in his gut as the soldiers pushed him roughly, forcing him to walk on lead legs. Panic fluttered in his veins, his mind; his rapid, shuddering pants grew frightened, against all his promises to himself that he wouldn't let them have the pleasure of seeing his fear. It was terrifying! As the guards forced him out onto the field, he had to bite his lip to force down a sob as he saw the stage.

In the middle of the arena stood about six feet high platform; a sturdy pole stood erected in the center with a noose hanging from it. On the platform stood two men, both in armor, both armed. Noctis couldn't help it; he squeezed his eyes shut as he was shoved to walk faster, a strangled sob escaping through gritted teeth. He didn't want to watch, didn't want to believe this was actually happening. Gods, he was scared! Scared and mortified. This wasn't how it was supposed to go! It couldn't end like this! The noise of the crowd became a muddled cacophony in the back of his mind as he was forced to climb the stairs leading onto the stage.

He was walked to stand under the noose; Noctis could make out the edges of the ledge. The magitek troopers never let go of him as one of the human guards reached above him. The feel of the rope against his neck made his teeth chatter, shiver running along his spine as a wave of nausea came over him.

The racket of the crowd was deafening, but to Noctis it was a blur of white noise; it barely registered from behind the sound of his heart racing. He noticed the change, though, as the crowds fell quiet and the presence around him seemed to go still. As if the world had stopped.

Emperor Aldercapt didn't bother hiding his pleasure as he observed the young man, his every gesture. The royal VIP box was situated so that the afternoon sun was shining from behind them, illuminating the stage, offering the perfect view. His government sat with him, the two adjutants on both of his sides. Minister Verstael Besithia was sitting next to them on the left, a vacant look on his face. Behind him lounged Chancellor Izunia, a thoroughly satisfied look on his face as he relaxed himself against the seat. The only one notably missing was High Commander Nox Fleuret.

The Emperor stood up, taking his time allowing the crowd to quiet down before starting, his magnified voice booming through the speakers, echoing around the awaiting audience,

"Prince Noctis of Lucis! You are brought here today to be executed as an enemy of the state. Do you have any last words?"

The raven's throat was sandpaper, and he gulped on instinct to try and ease out the ache. Last words? He felt like he wanted to say so much, and yet the words were lost at the tip of his tongue. His mind buzzed, and yet nothing seemed to make sense. The feeling around his throat was nauseating. He fought the panic that threatened to rise. The last thing he wanted, literally, was to disgrace himself in front of that bastard of an Emperor and his directorate of despots.

Aldercapt seemed to take the young man's silence as a sign to go on. "You have nothing to say?" The tone was a morbid cross of glee and incredulousness; it made Noctis' blood boil. Swear to the Six, that man would pay! Somehow, some time, that man would pay for all of this!

"Carry on," the old man waved his hand to signal the men. Noctis flinched involuntarily as the noose was tightened around his neck. Fighting the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, the prince bit his teeth as he waited. Waited for what he knew was coming: the sensation of falling, and then the sharp yank that would end his life.

Until suddenly the speakers exploded with the distinguishable cry of agony and the wet rattles that followed.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: You wanna feel more awesome than an awesome possum about this? Click on the "theme song", The Sharpest Lives by My Chemical Romance, when you start reading this chapter. It's gonna make sense.**

**Beta read and heart-bleed by Elillierose**

* * *

Noctis' breath caught in surprise at the sound coming through the speakers. On instinct he went for the source, and his eyes widened as what he saw sunk.

The satisfied smirk on Ardyn Izunia's lips never wavered as he bent in closer, to whisper into the older man's ear, "Don't think I would ever allow you to disgrace the Crystal with those unworthy hands of yours." As if to accentuate his words, he gave a firm thrust of his arm, the blade tearing deeper into flesh. In his arms, the stiffening body of Aldercapt jerked and stifled gurgling sounds were let out as he was slowly drowning in his own blood. Mumbled grunts were let out, attempts of speech never to be distinguished again. "Goodbye, Your Grace."

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still in horrified stupor. The members of the government were getting up from their seats slowly, eyeing the scene in disbelief. Accompanying soldiers exchanged glances. Verstael was the first to come to, "Y-Your Grace!" He went to lunge closer, pulling his sword to train it at the mauve-hair man. "You! Wha-What do you think you're doing?!"

The Chancellor gave the knife one last twist before pulling the blade out; the Emperor let out a long, strangled whine at the motion. He slumped against the railing, a spurt of blood spilling over the seats and ground. Rivulets were trailing from his half-slack mouth. Verstael's eyes bounced from his fallen liege to the languid-looking man casually cleaning his knife, before he dashed to check on the stabbed man's condition. "Your Grace?!" Hollow eyes were half-lidded, looking at nothing.

"Freeze!" There were the sounds of guns drawn, armors shuffling. Ardyn Izunia's smile took an amused edge as he eyed the gun barrels pointed at him; he chuckled lightly, the reverberations reaching over the audience through the speakers.

"Your Highness!" Ardyn hollered, tilting his hat as if in greeting, his eyes fixed on the stage and the dumbfound people on it. "It appears there's been a change of schedule." He smirked openly. "Looks like we need to do this another time." In one fluid motion, the man flung the knife out of his hand. There was a slicing sound, and Noctis felt the pressure around his neck go slack. A reflex sucked in a breath. A disbelieving, hungry breath.

"Off you go, then," Ardyn smirked pleasantly, making a little shooing gesture. "I'm sure you're a busy man, Highness. Places to be. People to meet." The man's smirk spread as realization dawned on the prince's face. "Oh, almost forgot! I think you could use this…" The man brought a hand up, and snapped his fingers.

The effect was instantaneous. With a surge like electricity, Noctis felt the Crystal's power returning to him. It was like a wash of warmth, spreading from his chest, running down the arms, the legs, leaving pleasant tingling sensations in its wake.

The only visible clue received by the Imperial soldiers, human and magitek alike, was the sudden stiffening of their captive, then falling completely slack, an absent look on his face. They had perhaps a couple of seconds to brace themselves. And they wasted them.

The troopers hadn't anticipated his movement. Noctis was already in mid-thrust when the dagger materialized, and with a disturbing crushing sound, the point sunk almost five inches through the optic sensors of the trooper holding his right arm. Sparks ignited against the blade, spilling over the prince's arms and face, perhaps burning, but he was oblivious to the pain. The foul machine had relented its grip of him, not much, but enough. Twisting his entire body to pull the blade out, he created the momentum to tear his arm free. "Ha!"

Not bothering with the other trooper, now seemingly figuring out everything wasn't alright, the prince let the dagger fly, and moving faster than a human eye could see, landed on his cast weapon, about eighteen feet from the stage. He heaved in heavy, adrenaline-infused huffs, gathering his bearings for an instant. What brought him back was a cold, hard touch on his leg; with a quick glance down, his breath hitched in disgust, and the thought had barely time to formulate before the gun came from the aether.

The first shot sent sparks flying at his feet as the bullet merely graced the chain spread against the ground. It snapped with the second shot, a hollow metallic jingle as the broken chain pieces flew a few feet. Noctis gave a soft laugh as he tested his whole reach again; the ends of the chains jingled almost accusingly as they hung from the handcuffs, but he'd worry about them later.

All around him, the chaos was spreading. The noise of the audience had become panicked; people were rushing to flee from the scene, they were pushing each other over. Some fell from the grandstand as people shoved into them. His heart nearly skipped a beat at the sound of a gunshot. As if it hadn't been alarming enough as it was; the magnified volume of it left an eerie echo to travel around the arena, adding into the frenzy. His eye flew to the direction of the VIP box, and he felt his throat run dry.

The last whips of smoke trailed into nothing; the guard held the gun still trained on the man he just shot. Even from afar Noctis could see the shaking of his hands. Ardyn Izunia regarded his chest with a blank look as he observed the spreading of crimson. Faint trances of chuckle carried over via speakers. "My, my. You've ruined my favorite coat."

"Wha-?! How?! W-what are you?!" Verstael Besithia's voice trailed quieter as he backed away from the microphone, from the scene playing in front of him. The Chancellor didn't reply, simply brushed his fingers over the bloodstain. Then, as if he'd forgotten about those others around him, those amber eyes flicked over to Noctis, and his lips tugged upwards. It was a look that said, 'Are you still here?'

Noctis gulped; it was something about the way the man was looking at him. Or maybe it was that he had just witnessed the man being shot, and yet he seemed like it was nothing but an inconvenience. He felt cold. His instincts, the ones he had always been prone to listen to, mind, screamed red alert. Something… something about that man made his skin crawl. This man was bad news.

'Shouldn't you be somewhere, Your Highness?'

He gasped at the voice in the back of his mind. It was like a fleeting thought, but he could tell it wasn't his own. It was gone like the wind, leaving Noctis shaken. Skeptical eyes met the amber, and the glint he saw in the man's expression was enough of an answer. The grin on those dangerous lips took a sharper edge, and Noctis took that as his cue. Without another glance, he dashed towards the doors he had been brought in through, turning his back to the escalating chaos and trying to block out the screams and the distancing sounds of gunshots.

* * *

The ungloved arm pressed against the throat of the now unarmed guard pinned against the wall in a manner that meant business. The soldier swallowed, the small movement of the throat causing it to tighten uncomfortably against the pressure. A droplet of sweat slid onto stubbled cheek.

"The three Lucian Crownsguards. Where are they being held?!" Noctis hissed. He was seriously violating the other's personal space.

"Ha-! F-fuck you, jackass!" the man spat back, trying to wiggle from the grip.

The man screamed at the pain as a dagger impaled his palm, pinning it to the wall like a butterfly. Noctis leaned himself closer. "Where are they?!"

The man was snarling in agony. "North… the northern… postern. Pri-prison levels," he grunted from behind clenched teeth.

The night sky eyes glared for a moment, weighing his words. "Thank you." Then he stepped back, pulling the blade out forcefully. Blood splattered onto the floor in a corresponding arc.

As soon as the trapping weight disappeared, the guard slumped against the wall, cradling his ruined hand. "Son of a bitch…" he grunted, glaring at the young man. "You're crazy-!"

His body jerked at the pain as the blade was pulled across his throat. Noctis didn't spare the dying man a glance as he flung the blood, he was already walking. Taking a few steps first, letting them speed up, grow more urgent until he was dashing along the brick aisle.

'Northern postern,' the urgent thought raced, 'prison levels.' Prison. That didn't sit well with him. How were they? Noctis gulped in between pants; based on his experience of the Niflheimean hospitality so far, there was no telling what could have been done to them. He grimaced as the worst came to his mind, and called his spear to fling it along the aisle, flashing blue.

He came to an abrupt halt at a crossroads when he saw a figure approaching down the aisle. The clacks of the soles of boots against concrete echoed around the archway; the cold light of the bulbs reflected ominously on the length of the rapier held at the side. The white fabric danced gracefully around his legs at each determined, predatory step. A deceptively casual stroll that concealed the underlying bloodlust.

"Ravus…" The sound was an odd lovechild of a gasp and a snort, incredulous and harsh, and yet containing the wish not to have to go through with this. Not with him.

High Commander Nox Fleuret's face was stony. His intense gaze was fixed on the younger man like that of a hunting hawk. "Prince Noctis! I was under the impression you had a hot date with the gallows?" He didn't sound surprised. Yet there was a degree of hunger Noctis found less to his liking.

"Outta my way, Ravus!" he shouted, summoning the engine blade and holding it in the offence. "I don't have time to deal with you!"

"Was that supposed to be begging?" the other snorted in slight amusement. "Because it surely wasn't a threat." He had come closer, his hold of his weapon tightening slightly. He never stopped walking as he brought the blade in front of his face as if in greeting, then, "Now, die!" Without a warning, he lunged to pierce the raven's upper chest.

"Ah!" Noctis became a fading cloud of spheres, the point of the rapier meeting nothing. He backed away a little, gathering his bearings for a moment. He huffed a little, his breath caught. "So, the hard way it is then…" he muttered.

Ravus gave a soft laugh, "Well then, Prince Noctis. Let's dance!" He raised his empty hand to his chest and gave a mock bow. "Now, by all means, hurt me. If you can."

He lunged at him again, but now it was Ravus' time to gasp. Noctis stepped sideways, out of the attack's way and struck across, knocking the incoming weapon aside. The force of it threw Ravus off balance a little, his blade collided a bit sloppily with the other's as he crashed against him. The eyes met, the intense blue urgent and serious, the heterochromatic surprised. Noctis' lips tugged up a little. "You'd be surprised." He twisted the angle of the engine blade, grinding it against the rapier, and sliced, aiming at the other's hand.

Speckles of blood flew as the engine blade scraped the skin; Ravus let out a yelp, angry rather than agonized, although it must have hurt. Flinging himself from the prince, the Imperial High Commander huffed a moment, quickly recomposing from the damage. Noctis had raked the skin over his larger knuckles. A snort of annoyance left him. "Hmph. So, the runt has learned a thing or two then."

"Shut up!" Noctis really didn't have time for this! He needed to end it quickly. He leaped forward, going for the legs; a gasp left him as Ravus suddenly grabbed a hold of his blade.

The sparks bounced from the engine blade as the manufactured fingers closed tighter around it. Then, without a warning, Ravus gave it a sharp yank, pulling the prince along with it. He stumbled for a few steps, then a sudden pain tore across his right side. "Agh!" The hollow clangs of the engine blade being discarded barely registered. Stumbling further away from the Commander, instinctively he went to inspect the wound, and found a long, clean slash just above his hip. It wasn't too deep and it greatly missed all the vitals. Meant to hurt, not to kill. Ravus was just toying with him.

His teeth clenched at the notion and his now heated gaze flew back to the blond. Noctis found him eyeing him like a prowling beast, but he hadn't moved in for the kill. 'Your loss,' the raven thought as he straightened up, ignoring the ache in his side, and called his blade back. "You know," he started, bringing his weapon across himself protectively, "You really should have taken that shot."

Ravus had the audacity to laugh. "Ha! What do you think you could possibly do, Prince? You are thousands of miles behind enemy lines. You managed to escape the gallows, but do you honestly think you would be leaving the city alive? Then again," his lips tugged up into an obnoxious smirk, "this way I'll have the pleasure of killing you myself!" He leaped forward, the point of the rapier trained on the raven.

Noctis couldn't afford to even blink as the other came at him again. He knew he had one shot at what he was going to do. If he blew it, that would be it. He would use the other's arrogance. Right now, Ravus saw him as weak. Him underestimating him was his sole chance. He took in the angle the blade was pointed in; knew where it was aimed at; forced his limbs not to panic under that realization; and waited. At the last possible moment, Noctis disappeared to slide under his sword arm, the rapier striking at nothing where the young man's heart had been a mere moment ago.

"Eh?" Before the confused sound was uttered, Noctis had already reappeared one step behind Ravus. Never stopping the movement, the prince slashed the engine blade across his unprotected, wide-open back.

The blond screamed as blood gushed from the wound; he fell onto one knee, leaning on his sword as he tried to reach to press on the wound. The movement tore pained moans, his upper body was shaking. A few steps behind him, Noctis was panting a little, his free arm pressing on his own gash. It bled, too, although not too much. In comparison to the blood that now pooled from the former prince of Tenebrae. Noctis let his blade go; he would no longer need it.

"… I told you, didn't I?" He got no reply but the other's pained moans as his consciousness was rapidly slipping from him. Ravus slumped to the floor, and slowly a small pool of blood begun to trickle from under him. Noctis hissed sharply. 'What should I do? Should I… kill him?' Looking at the amount of blood, there was no reason to delay the inevitable. The man had fallen unconscious, there would be no more pain. 'But…' Dammit! He hadn't meant to kill! Just to take him out. Biting his teeth, Noctis made his decision. Careful not to let his guard down in case the other wasn't fully out of it yet, he stepped next to the limp form, and carefully pried the weapon from his hand – and flung it across the room. Then, he rose and turned to head towards the northern postern. There was still time. Someone could still find him and help him to safety. He would give him a chance.

* * *

"What is going on out there?! Can you see anything?!" Ignis demanded, clenching the bars so tightly his knuckles were white. He looked like he tried to push himself through them. Across from him, Prompto wobbled precariously on the balls of his feet as he tried to pry out of the small window.

"Can't see shit! Just some sky and flagpoles!" he grunted, and slammed his fist against the wall as he lowered himself to stand properly. "Dammit!"

The sound Ignis made was a cross of frustration and desperate fear; Prompto didn't blame him. The chills brought by the experience hadn't stopped running down his own limbs, either. The experience of listening in how his best friend was walked out to be publicly executed. How the crowds had cheered. Had chanted. Had looked forward to it. He gulped. It had been horrible. To just wait for it, wait for that terrifying moment, hoping beyond hope that it was all just a bad dream. A nightmare he would wake up screaming from, and Noctis would be there to brush it off with banter. It wasn't. It was really happening. Prompto had never felt so useless. And if he thought he had it bad, chances are some of them had it even worse. The image of Ignis on his knees, slumped forward and head hung, features distorted by suffering, and just so given up… Prompto never wanted to see that image again. And yet it was forever burned on his retina. It was so unlike the man it was disturbing. It was the image of true hopelessness.

And then the chaos had come. Suddenly there had been death rattles through the speakers, and Prompto was sure it had been Izunia's voice speaking, but the voice had been partly mumbled by the noise of the public. Then a gunshot. Gunshot, and screams. A full-blown panic.

What was going on?! Was Noctis alright?! He grunted from behind clenched teeth, his fist collided with the wall again. And again. It stung, but fuck that! His emotions were a storm. A storm that threatened to overwhelm him. Desperation. Grief. Confusion. Helplessness. The rough wall scraped the skin, small droplets of blood surfacing, but Prompto didn't care. It was nothing. This pain was nothing. He would withstand any amount if only it meant that Noctis was alright! 'Please be alright, man! Please…!'

"Prompto. Stop it." The tone wasn't demanding. More like asking. Like he didn't want to see it. "That's not helping." The blond's arm went slack against the wall, where it slid down with gravity. The younger man had his back to the speaker; he leaned his forehead against the stone, taking in deep, shuddering breaths as his shoulders shook from the adrenaline.

"What are we gonna do, guys?" The blond wasn't really expecting an answer, though, not with the way the others seemed to regard him. It stung him, pierced straight through the heart. He squeezed his eyes shut against it, hoping that if he just ignored it for long enough, it would go away. Work itself out. Foolish as that hope was, he knew, he hoped anyway.

That was all he had left.

Ignis shook his head, his lips moving marginally as if he was tasting the words on his tongue like they were something foreign to him. "I don't know." The tone was bland, and it was what piqued Prompto's attention. Slowly, he turned to look at the man leaning his back against the cell bars, arms folded over his chest. As he observed the hazel hair swishing from side to side, it hit him: Ignis really didn't know. For the first time, the adviser really was clueless.

He gulped, pushing himself off the wall, took a step closer. His body was on autopilot, his mind too much of a jumble for any coherent thought. He just felt like it was the right thing to do. "C'mon, Ig! Sure you do. You always do, right?" His voice sounded artificial even to himself.

The adviser didn't face him as he sighed heavily. "Suppose, if Noct is… dead, then most likely they will soon execute us as well. It is either that, or enslavement. That is what I know," the end came out as biting. "You happy?" Prompto winced at the brutality of those words. Neither outcome sounded particularly enjoyable. But, he sighed, he knew which one he would rather take if those were the options.

"But what about–?"

"Quiet! What's that?!" came the gruff voice of the shield from a distance. Both of them fell silent, now making out the sound, too. It sounded like thuds, like steps, coming down the stairs. Light steps. Running steps.

The door was slammed open with enough force to splinter the wood a little. At the entrance, huffing and leaning onto his arm, stood Noctis. "Guys?!"

"Noct?!" Prompto shouted, a mixture of relief and astonishment.

"Noct?! Are you alright?" Ignis had jumped against the bars like he tried to push them down. Noctis panted to catch his breath, his relief audible in each exhale, and took a few jogging steps inside the cellblock. His initial excitement threatened to darken with anger, however, as he took in the grimy look of the surroundings, but he got it under control before he saw completely red. Just the darker shades of pink for now. 'There'll be a time,' he reminded himself. Later.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," he huffed, rolling his eyes a little. The prince did his best to ignore the scrutinizing gaze the adviser was throwing at his reddened neckline. He would be in for an earful about it, he knew it, but that was later. All that would have to be for later.

"You alright, Noct?! What the hell happened out there?!" Gladio's disbelieving voice demanded.

"I would certainly like to know the answer to that as well."

"Later. Let's get you guys out of there!" Noctis dismissed them with a swing of his arm, his gun materializing.

Ignis' gasp was barely audible, "Ah! I see." The look on his face was impressed.

"Here…" The gunshot echoed painfully loudly in the confined space. With a signifying clinking sound, the busted padlock fell to the floor, and Ignis pushed the door open, nodding his thank you. The prince dismissed it with a wave of his hand as he was already dashing to where Gladio clung onto his bars.

"Thanks. Believe it or not, heh, the food in this hotel sucks. I say let's check out," the shield chuckled as he placed a firm hand on the prince's shoulder.

"Yeah, let's," the younger man grinned, throwing the other a quick high-five. Chuckling a little, they dashed for the exit, but Noctis halted at the notion of something out of ordinary. "Prompto?"

"Noct…?" His voice was hesitant. The gunslinger stood frozen about a foot from the bars sealing him into his confinement, scratching the back of his neck. He looked like he wanted to look at anything but the other men. Nevertheless his gaze searched for the blue eyes, fearing what he would see in them.

He gasped a little at the look of the blond. He looked frightened, about ready to bolt as he stood there timidly, eyes bouncing back and forth like he was looking for an escape. Noctis' vision caught something unfamiliar, and his eyes flew to the odd-looking tattoo on the man's wrist; his brows furrowed a little. His gaze shifting back, though, he locked eyes with the sky blue, and an instinctive gulp dove down his throat. The look on Prompto's eyes was begging. Frightened and lonely and desperate and begging!

Prompto winced inwardly as he understood what Noctis was looking at. But it didn't matter anymore. His secret was out, there was no point in hiding it anymore. It just felt like he was on trial, accused of witchcraft, the way people were now looking at him. But he had to try! He had to…!

'Yes,' Noctis understood. 'That's right.' That 'imprint' Izunia had spoken about, was that weird tattoo thing it then? He had almost forgotten about it, until it was slammed in front of him again like this. Just who was Prompto? As Noctis gazed into those eyes, he read his answer.

'Please!' the inner voice screamed, urging him to say something, but the words died on his tongue. 'Noct, please!" The sky blue eyes were filled with so much emotion they were cluttered. There was desperation, there was fear, there was fleeting hope, there was gratitude. There was urgency, admiration, asking for forgiveness. But most prominently, there was begging. Begging for Noctis to believe in him. Begging him not to leave him!

Ignis had watched the quiet exchange, taking in every motion, every gesture. "Noct?" he called from the door, peeking outside to make sure the coast was clear. "Whatever you decide, decide quick. We need to go!" Next to him, Gladio gave a disapproving grunt, and crossed his arms. His demeanor left little room for doubt about his opinion.

Prompto's lip quivered at what was being said. 'No! Please, guys–!' His mind screeched into a halt, throat ran dry as he watched how the prince raised the gun, and he braced himself for the pain. He couldn't help his eyes closing in reflex as the bang sounded, hissing. But the pain never came. He drew in a surprised breath at that, his eyes prying open at the distinctive sound of the twisted metal meeting stone.

Noctis had torn the door open, was halfway inside, a hand offered out to him. The blond blinked, a dumbfound look spreading over his features. 'Apparently the wrong thing to do,' he winced inwardly as the prince huffed in irritation and rolled his eyes, before he spat,

"'The hell are you waiting for?! C'mon!"

A million butterflies fluttered in his chest; the blond's expression brightened like the sun had risen. Forcing his emotions under control, he gave a brief sniffle, then nodded, and grabbed the offered hand. "R-right!"

"Good, then let's go!"

They were rushing out of the cellblock in a heartbeat.

* * *

**AN2: Ardyn, you sweet double... triple... quadruple-crossing bastard! *heart* .3**

**If you wanna, listen to Blink 182's "All The Small Things" after reading this. Doesn't it make you smile now?! That's what I played practically on repeat while writing.**

**Some people have been looking forward to them patching up their bonds and talking it out. Well, I can tell you it's coming, in the next chapter. Also, Heart of a Tool is drawing to its end. All along I've been planning on this to be the first part of a longer story. Not a prequel, but a first part. There's gonna be a couple more chapters.**

**And I'm sorry about Ravus, guys. He is there literally just because I wanted another battle scene. Is that cruel?**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Aaaand here's the last chapter(s). It's a huge double-long one chapter since I didn't want to split this.  
**

**I want to thank you for reading Tool, it's warmed my heart to hear your thoughts about it. I hope the rest of it lives up to the expectations.**

**Beta read by Elillierose**

**WARNING: Please note that in this chapter I'm depicting self-harm. It's not really graphic, though, but might not be everyone's alley.  
**

* * *

He couldn't believe how easy their escape from the prison levels had been. Or relatively so. From all around them they had heard the chaos: orders being shouted and then the deep footfalls of the soldiers rushing down an aisle here and around a corner there. But only a couple of times they had had to actually fend for themselves, and even those instances seemed accidental in retrospect. Like the soldiers just happened to be unlucky enough to cross paths with them, not like they had come for them per se. It was almost like their captors didn't care about them anymore. Then again, the Niffs currently had something quite a bit more pressing at their hands.

It seemed like the chaos was spreading outside the arena perimeters, and by the sound of it, the commotion was escalating into full-blown rioting. From afar they could hear occasional gunfire and crashing sounds, and the building itself was getting deserted as the mayhem moved onto the streets.

Not that they minded.

They had climbed to the ground level. The aisles were mostly paved with bolted doors, but every here and there a window or even guiding signs gave an idea of direction. The shield was in the lead, half sneaking, half jogging a few yards ahead of them, stopping every now and then to eavesdrop for any movement coming towards them. Ignis came second, his attention never wavering as he waited for the younger men to catch up; he had drawn his daggers from the aether again, was clenching them tightly as if to make sure they would stay with him this time. "I do not fancy this quiet," he muttered to his younger protégé as they made way as quietly yet quickly as possible.

"Care to elaborate on that?" Noctis raised an eyebrow.

"I'm talking about the guards' sudden lack of interest in us. I find it inconceivable that no alarm has been raised, even though I am sure they must have noticed our escape by now. It seems a tad too convenient. It is that, I have a bad feeling about this." Ignis' eyes flicked over to Prompto briefly, who was bringing up the rear. Perhaps the blond felt the gaze landing on him, because the sky blue met the cold emerald for a second before the blond gave a small cough and broke off, scratching the back of his neck.

Noctis had followed his eyes, and his brows furrowed. His mouth was a thin line as he turned his attention back to the adviser. "I told you, Iggy, Izunia literally just butchered their sovereign. It should give them a little something to focus on." He held a small pause. "Give him a break." He crossed his arms as he fixed the other with a stern look that told he would hear no more of it. Ignis couldn't quite hold back his frustration.

"I am just saying, Noct. We shouldn't let our guard down."

"Yeah, and I'm not listening. Prom's cool, so let's just focus on getting out of here," he shot Ignis down and motioned towards Gladio, who had sneaked further up ahead and was gesturing them to move it. The adviser gave him one of his looks, one that demanded the young man to heed his words, but as the prince persistently ignored it, he was forced to back down. He knew from experience he would get nowhere with him when Noct was like this.

"Very well. One brash breakout it is then." Prompto wasn't sure why, but the adviser sounded displeased at that. He didn't miss the inquisitive look Ignis fixed on him, though, before turning to follow Gladio, and he sighed, wondering how long was it going to take before they would trust him again. Or would they ever?

Noctis read the look on the gunslinger's face, and reached to grab his shoulder friendly. "You okay, Prom?"

"Y-yeah, it's nothing," the blond shrugged a little as he averted his eyes to the floor. "…Thanks."

The prince gave a small laughter, "For what?"

Prompto's smile was sheepish, and he shrugged again. "For, you know, believing in me, I guess. That I'm not…" He fell silent as his words failed him, and his breath hitched a little. It wasn't missed by the other.

"Hey? Prom, look at me." Noctis waited until he met the other's eyes, "We'll talk about that later, okay? For now, let's just get out of here." There was a glimmer in the blond's eyes as he nodded with a small smile.

"Yeah. As Gladio said it, man, the food here does suck," he forced out a little chuckle, and Noctis couldn't help returning to that. It was a flicker of the real Prompto. The Prompto he knew and admittedly had missed. He knew he couldn't entirely disregard the new information about his friend, but, the raven reassured himself, he was sure he would assimilate that somehow. This was still Prompto.

He jerked his head towards the others; Gladio had his arms crossed and was tapping a foot as he eyed them expectantly. "How 'bout you move it before Gladio has to come back to get you?" he winked to the blond, grinning at the wince the other gave.

"I don't think there'd be much left of me to retrieve if he did." The prince shook his head a little as he sprinted, Prompto hot on his heels.

"Took your time." There was scolding behind the surface of a statement in the adviser's tone. The gunner felt the heat rising over his face and turned to look away, but the raven paid little heed.

"Are we clear?" he asked as he peered around the next corner, then headed on.

"For now, yeah. Funny, but it'd put me more at ease if we'd actually have someone coming at us. With this calm," Gladio snorted, "there's definitely something rotting here."

"Like, a trap?" the gunslinger peeped a bit hesitantly. It was still making him uneasy to approach the shield.

"Or an ambush. Not that it'd be the first," Gladio rolled his eyes, sounding his spite. Much to the gunslinger's chagrin.

"Really, guys?!" There was frustration in his voice. "How many times do I have to say it? I had nothing to do with that!" The shield merely scoffed.

Ignis huffed irritably. "Perhaps not, Prompto, but I must say, if you had told us about your origin earlier, we could have taken that into account and taken the proper precautions. Things could have gone quite differently." The accusation was obvious: 'you are still at fault.' The tactician did his best not to overthink the look on the other's face. He wasn't sure how he felt about the blond enigma at the moment, but he thought it best not to dwell on it since it mattered none. Since Noct had approved of him coming along, despite everything that had happened, there wasn't really anything they could do about it. It wasn't their place to cross his opinion, regardless of what the adviser – or the shield, for that matter – might have wanted. There was a small voice in his head, mocking him and telling him he was being a hypocrite; what right did he have to demand Prompto to trust them with his secret, when they quite clearly didn't trust him? Given, the way it was brought up had been less than ideal. But if Prompto had anticipated their reaction, had feared telling them would spur something like this… Ignis couldn't really blame him. Truthfully, perhaps he would have done the same if their roles were reversed. There was a twinge inside; were they being unreasonable?

… He thought it best not to dwell on it. Since it mattered none.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Noctis had dropped down to casual strolling, one hand pulling through the dark mane as he walked closer to the sealed-tight blast door separating them from their next step of freedom. "A hundred Gil says it's locked." No-one took his offer up, and as he tried the door controls, the plasma screen flashed him a red light and a tetchy siren rang out. He hissed in irritation and tried again, with disappointing results. His fist clenched, looking like he was about to punch the damn panel, but held himself back.

"Apparently not this way," Ignis deadpanned, arms crossed and a less than pleased look on his face. He had let his daggers go. "No point in staying here. Let us find another way out." He made a move to turn back, expecting them to follow him.

"Can I… try something?" a voice spoke up from behind them. Prompto looked nervous and a little pale, like he was feeling ill. The others, especially the adviser, looked curiously surprised, but Noctis gave a frustrated shrug.

"Yeah, sure. Knock yourself out." He motioned towards the panels behind him and stepped away to give him some room. "You're better at this kind of stuff anyway." The blond flashed him a timid smile as he stepped to take a look at the controls. His expression tightened a little, and a silent gulp slid down his throat. His arm only shook a little as he brought the barcode up against the panel. "Prompto?"

_Beep._

A wave of self-disgust mixed with shock and disbelief flushed over him as a green light and a check mark appeared on the screen, and the door started to slide open with a low hum. Half-lidded eyes were looking at nothing. "Here." The sound was so quiet it only barely left his lips.

It was met with a filled silence. Noctis' jaw hung a bit slack; Gladio's brow had risen in surprise; the adviser was pushing his glasses up, his lips cracked open a fraction. "Wow, Prom…! How'd you know how to do that?!" his friend's tone was half impressed, half mind-blown.

The blond shrugged again and shook his head a little, his eyes lingering on the treacherous panel before turning to the others. "I didn't. Not really." He held a hesitating pause as if it was difficult to continue, "I just had a hunch since… since it worked earlier. When they… scanned it." The ending came out as acidy.

"They what?!" Prompto had averted his eyes and held his left arm across his body, grabbing the right tightly. The way he carried himself, something about it made the blond look almost fragile. Like he was holding himself together. It was a sad sight, and Noctis made a move to get closer, but someone beat him to it.

Prompto jerked a little at the sudden hand on his shoulder; his gaze snapped, flying back to meet the other, and out of instinct drew in a breath. It wasn't whom he had expected. The look on Ignis' face was a puzzle. The emerald eyes scanned him over, scrutinizing and sharp as if the man was looking for any signs of dishonesty. His mind was working in overdrive, analyzing every detail, each little telltale gesture. But the ghost of a warm expression, an inkling of an up-turned lip graced his features as he regarded the younger man. "Good work." The tone was reserved, but Prompto could make out the underlying cunning in it. A revelation bestowed upon the adviser that had brought forward a shift in something. And there, behind it all, Prompto saw also something that made his heart leap. Behind the scrutiny, behind the skepticism was a sliver of sympathy. Sympathy and understanding.

He let out a relieved breath. "Yeah?" The adviser said no more, the slightest raise of his brow being his only reply as Gladio's irritated voice sounded,

"How 'bout you save it for later? We've got a citadel to bust out from." He was pointing his thumb over his shoulder, towards the grand veranda and the courtyard, looking like he was halfway going already. Ignis flashed the gunslinger a brief, cocky smirk as he turned to follow the shield, pretending he didn't see the spreading smile on the other.

* * *

Apparently Niflheim liked things large, Noct thought as they dashed alongside the tall wall separating the enormous courtyard of the arena from the world outside. Everything seemed vast and grandiose, yet dreary and uninviting at the same time. It was metal and gravel, and everything seemed technically advanced. Advanced but soulless. 'Like Niflheim itself,' he thought. He glanced at the blond running almost at his side. The look on his face was absent, like he was running on autopilot, his mind far away. "Prom?"

It seemed to startle him slightly, "Y-yeah?"

"You ok?"

"Yeah? Yeah, I'm good. Why?"

"I just… Or nah, forget it," he shook his head, grinning a little at the question on the blond's face before turning his attention back to the others. "Ignis. Any idea where we're going?"

"I'm afraid just 'race to an exit' will have to do for now. I must admit, I am not that familiar with the detailed map of Gralea." His tone was a bit guilty.

"If I'm not going totally cuckoos here, this's the practice grounds of the arena fighters," Gladio sounded a bit disgusted as he motioned towards the training racks and various weightlifting equipment along the courtyard. "For a nation this advanced, I can't believe they're still doing that stuff in here..."

"What stuff?" Noct's interest had piqued at the shield's reaction.

"Have you ever heard of gladiators, Noct?" Ignis' tone was tight with anger. "It is an old name for fighters who would battle each other to the death at an arena like this. In history, those kinds of battles were organized for public entertainment." He heard a sharp gasp of understanding, "In Insomnia, those kinds of death matches have been abolished over three centuries ago. They were deemed inhumane."

"Yeah…" the raven's tone faded. He regretted asking.

Gladio huffed irritably, "'Yeah' is right. And three guesses what would have become of us. Shows how much the Niffs respect human life." His teeth grit at the thought.

"We are not out of this yet!" Ignis cut in, refusing to get swept along to their emotions, "We cannot lose our focus!" Inwardly, the strategist tried to ignore the cold lump setting itself into his gut. How large were the perimeters? They hadn't seen an opening in the wall yet, although Ignis was sure they had ran along it for at least half a mile already.

He got his answer when they circled around the building, to meet the corner in the wall, then the solid stone that didn't hold a crack as it connected with the inner walls of the arena, blocking their way. "Drat!"

"Shit…" Gladio bit his teeth, pulling a hand through his hair.

"Now what?!" Noctis grumbled.

The shield shrugged and shook his head. He was eyeing the solid rock intensely as if his gaze was going to be enough to undo it. "I guess we're going back, try to find another way. There's no way we can climb that thing."

"That's gonna take ages!"

"Uh, guys?! We've got company!" Prompto's voice called out; he called his gun out as the others spun around.

The step of the Chancellor seemed carefree as he paced towards them, purposefully and smugly like he owned the place. The darkened blood stain on his chest bore evidence of what should have been fatal violence prior, but nothing else indicated that anything was out of the ordinary with Izunia. The satisfied smirk on his face never wavered, in fact it widened as he watched how the Crownsguards drew their weapons out. The amber went them through, the gaze resting on the gunslinger a little longer than the others.

"Oh my! And here I was certain it said to take the third left," he feigned a pout as he looked around like he saw the dead end for the first time. "Looks like I wasn't the only one."

Noctis felt his fists clench tighter, "What the hell do you want now?!"

"Uh, uh, uh! That's not really the way to talk to your savior. Truly, the manners you have," Ardyn mocked scolding. The shield scoffed,

"I believe he just asked you a question."

Ardyn wasn't phased. "And I believe I just answered. It looks like you've run into an obstacle?" He enjoyed the leaden silence for a moment. "I came to offer you my help."

"What makes you think we'd trust you?!" Noctis spat.

"Do you think you have a choice?" All humor was suddenly gone, the man's expression a perfect poker face. He was right, and he knew they knew it. "As it looks to me, you don't."

Prompto gulped, the presence of that man sending shivers down his spine. The last time hadn't gone down so well. "Noct? Are we seriously going to trust him?" he spoke lowly enough for only them to hear.

"Look who's talking," Gladio grunted, ignoring the half-pissed, half-hurt look thrown at his direction.

"I'm afraid the Chancellor is right, Noct," Ignis muttered, clearly hating to have to say that. "I must say I'm wary about this, but we could use all the aid we can get."

"Yeah…" Noctis didn't sound convinced. His instincts screamed red alert, that this was a bad idea, but what other choice did he have? They were stranded on foreign land, outnumbered and outdone in a flash should they try a forced breakout. Cornered in every sense of the word. No matter how he looked at it, it still stood they had no choice. Everything, every fiber in his body was against this, against what he knew he would end up accepting. But it wouldn't stop it from happening; Noctis knew when he had been bested. Whatever sick game Izunia was playing with them, he was holding the aces. And he was laying them out.

"So, what is it going to be, Your Highness? I can offer you a safe passage out of the city, and a vehicle. But of course," he threw them a meaningful smirk, "if you think you'd rather try your luck on foot… Well, who knows? The tool might even make it," he chuckled, fixing Prompto with a stomach-turning smirk. "As for the rest of you…"

"Alright," Noctis heard his own voice speaking; Izunia's smile was almost pleasant.

* * *

"It still reeks, why'd he help us out when he's only just brought us in?" Gladio grumbled under his breath, his shield swinging at his side on each step, the hawk-like eyes never leaving the lavish man. Izunia was leading them, walking briskly about ten yards ahead. He hadn't even glanced behind since he had told them to follow, trusting – knowing – they would.

Arrogant bastard.

"I dunno, but it's not because of charitability," the prince murmured.

"Hmph. Not with this guy," Gladio muttered back. "He'd throw us to the wolves the second he deems us useless. What's his game, though? What's in it for him?"

"Well, for starters, we are. As we are now, we really are like marionettes he's puppeteering," Ignis scoffed, correcting his glasses. "He tells us to jump and we're asking, 'How high?'"

"So, you're saying…"

"Yes. He has us at his will." The shield let out a sound of dissatisfaction. It was a cross of growl and a grunt, and his lips pulled back to reveal teeth.

"To put it bluntly." Ignis ignored the qualm thrown at him.

"That's just great…" the prince's eye roll was audible.

"This just keeps getting better and better," Prompto near-whined.

"Indeed. And the worrisome thing is, we really have no way of discerning his goal. Or if he's done toying with us, or only just getting started."

"Can't be helped," Noctis grumbled.

"Unfortunately, no, it can't. I find it obscene to say this, but we need him."

"He doesn't need us, though," Gladio cut in; the adviser looked thoughtful.

"I wouldn't be so sure. Izunia certainly doesn't strike as the type to help out of generosity."

"But what could he possibly gain by helping us get out?" Gladio muttered, index finger rubbing absentmindedly against the stubble that hadn't been shaven for four days. "Why'd he bring us here in the first place?"

"To make an impression, perhaps," Ignis' eyebrow rose. "Although it leaves open the question, on whom? However, we can safely assume that the guards' current lack of interest in us is most likely due to him."

"How so?" Prompto questioned, sounding rather demanding, and Ignis glanced at him, a neat eyebrow arching.

"Have you seen any since he's joined our company?"

"We didn't see that many before."

"That is true. But have you noticed how he's leading us along all the major corridors, instead of using the stealthier routes, and there still hasn't been any encounters?" Ignis left the obvious unvoiced, trusting the blond to figure it out himself.

"Oh… oooh." Realization dawned on the gunner; a humble look replaced the surprise soon after, and he chuckled humorlessly. "So, I guess the guy really has us by the balls." The adviser coughed, clearly unimpressed by the crude metaphor; a finger found its way to the glasses.

"Not the choice of words I would have used, but essentially true, I'm afraid." Ignis' tone was tense.

"So, I guess it's just playing the obedient for now, guys," Noct grumbled, not at all pleased at the idea. He had a bad feeling about this.

Izunia led them almost across the entire dimension of the arena, until they arrived to a wall-wide blast door the three Crownsguards recognized awfully well. "Don't tell me…" Gladio muttered to himself. Behind the doors opened up the landing dock where Izunia's private airship was waiting, its bridge lowered and two guards standing in attention to greet him. They exchanged a look at their commander's company, but seeing the look on the Chancellor's face, they stood down and were left to merely glare at the young men.

The leader for the time being wasted no time stomping in, but as he didn't hear footsteps behind him anymore, the Chancellor slowly turned around, his face that of mockery. "Getting the cold feet now, are we? I thought we had come to a mutual understanding."

Noctis stood still, eyeing the ship with overt skepticism. Every instinct screamed at him not to go through with this, that getting onto that airship meant trouble. But what other choice did he have? This was their only chance.

"Noct? Are we going to do this?" Ignis' tone wasn't demanding, wasn't pestering. It was simply requesting. Like a subordinate talking to his higher-up. He nodded a little.

"Yeah. 'Guess we have to." With an intake of air, Noctis stepped onto the drawbridge, the others following a couple steps behind him, and as the door of the airship begun to close behind them, he prayed that he had done the right thing.

The mauve-haired enigma took great delight in observing his young company. The prince didn't bother hiding his doubt; wariness hung around him like an eerie cloud, so thick he could stir it with a stick. The bodyguard wasn't quite as obvious in his discontent, but he had clearly placed himself between Noctis and the Chancellor, and the sharp eye was alert for anything even slightly suspicious. No surprise, really, and Izunia found himself amused by the brute man's predictability. And the tool, oh he was almost too much! Looking like a beaten dog, the gunner kept glancing around constantly, his arms crossed over his chest tightly. But the smart one, Ardyn raised an eyebrow, he was holding his gaze with a determined look that spoke of demand.

"Alright, Chancellor. I believe it is time for us to come to terms with each other," Ignis started, hoping to sound more confident than he felt. "Where are you taking us?"

The treacherously sweet smile on Izunia's lips spread into a small chuckle. "To wherever it best suits you. I believe you lot were rather on your way to honor a certain deity?" The raising intonation of the sentence made Ignis' lips tighten into a thin line.

"Our destinations are no business of yours."

The other laughed honestly. "Such vindictiveness… Come now, I'm not your enemy." He spread his arms invitingly.

"Yeah, right!" Gladio barked, looking furious; he took a couple threatening steps closer. "Are we supposed to believe that? The Empire attacked Insomnia! We are enemies, old man. You think we're dumb?!"

"Gladio…" Noctis' tone was warning, telling him to cool it.

Ardyn shook his head slightly. "A true tragedy. But do understand that in a conflict such as this, the sides are never just black and white. Rather different shades of grey, really. After all, you decided to bring the tool along," the smirk on his face took a sharp edge as the amber flickered over to Prompto, his eyes laughing. The blond visibly gulped but his expression was poisonous.

"I'm not one of you. Don't you dare make that comparison," Prompto stated sternly. It was brushed off with a small chuckle.

The adviser was determined to not let the discussion divert. "Why are you helping us?" He kept a keen eye for the man's reaction, but he had to come to be disappointed as nothing, not even a flicker changed on that perfect poker face, and he understood Izunia had been waiting for the question.

"I told you, I'm not your enemy. And if you mean that slight little mishap earlier, know that it was merely… a misunderstanding, nothing more." He held a small pause. "Truly. Who am I, or the Emperor of Niflheim for that matter, to stop the legends from coming true?" His smile had a cunning edge. The younger men didn't look pleased.

"Are we to understand you believe in the prophecy?" Ignis demanded. "What about the Empire?"

Izunia chuckled, his eyes flashing with cunning, but he didn't answer him. Instead, he motioned for one of the guards that had greeted them at the door. "I assure you, all will be answered in due time. But now, this man will escort you to your dorm."

"Dorm?!" Noctis' voice dripped skepticism. Izunia's smirk widened a fraction.

"It's a long flight. While you're on this ship, think of yourselves as guests of mine."

"Hmph. More like hostages," Gladio scoffed.

"Please. I guarantee you a safe passage: no harm is going to come to you while on board this ship." He motioned for them to go with the guard who spared them no glance as he passed them by to lead the way. "Move along now, you." As the others, one by one, reluctantly turned to follow the man, Ignis stayed behind. It was like he was frozen in place, not a muscle moving, his head held up proudly and a challenging look on his face as he fixed Izunia with a fierce look.

"You know we don't trust you," he started.

"Of course," Izunia replied, sounding amused.

"Why are you helping us? If you're not with the Empire, then what are you after?" Ignis gasped, his determination cracking for a moment as he thought he saw something. It must have been just his eyes playing tricks on him, the shadows moving to create a hollow illusion, or an inconvenient drop of moisture, but he could have sworn that for an instant, something shifted on their disagreeable host's face. Something unnatural. Something skeletal. Like… death. A reflex pulled his eyes closed, and as they opened, after what Ignis swore was the longest blink of his life, the look was gone. The plastered smirk was firmly in place on that enigmatic face. The amber twinkled with amusement.

"I'm sorry, did I break your concentration?" Ignis couldn't help the quiet gasp.

"What…?"

"Ignis! We're going!" came Noct's almost bored tone from further down the aisle.

The Chancellor's smile was deceptively warm. "Run along now, royal adviser. I believe your liege is calling." Ignis' teeth grit, lips pulling back a little as he waged an internal battle. He knew when he was onto something. But…

"Tch!" Huffing in irritation, the adviser shot one last inquisitive look at him before turning to follow the others, a deep disruption in his heart.

The guard lead them to a four-bed dorm room. It was only the essentials: two bunk beds, small clothing closets for four, and a tiny shared bathroom. No windows and cold, sterile artificial light. But it was the first piece they had had for days. As the guard left with no words of goodbye, Prompto wasted no time in flopping onto one of the lower beds, splaying himself over it. Noctis chuckled as he came to sit with him, worming his way to sit tangled into his legs until the blond had to scoot over to make room. The other bed creaked a little as Ignis took a seat on it, relaxing himself to lean his weight onto his elbows. Gladio remained standing, propped against the bed frame, arms crossed casually over his chest. He eyed the room with a mixed feeling of appreciation and doubt. As they had settled themselves, a silence came over them, one that quickly grew awkward and pressing as each one of them realized that this was false comfort and that something was very, very much left unresolved between them.

"So," Gladio broke the silence as he made his way to sit with Ignis," start talking," he grunted, nodding towards Prompto. The tone was gruff, spiteful, clearly displeased, but it had softened from the soul-slashing vehemence it had held earlier, and Prompto understood that right now Gladio saw him as lesser of the two evils, and silently he was grateful. At least the shield seemed willing to hear him out now. The others' faces were expectant as Prompto's fingers clenched the fabric of his pants and his eyes wandered downwards. He had anticipated this, waited the moment in fear and excitement, but it didn't make it any easier.

"I–I don't really know where to start. I've… never talked about this."

"Perhaps from the beginning?" Ignis pried him to spit it out. Heaven knew it was due time. "Where were you born?" Prompto snorted, shrugging.

"Here in Gralea, but that's how much my parents – the ones you know, I mean – that's all they ever told me." He held a hesitating pause; it was obviously difficult for him to talk about this.

"How'd ya get that?" Gladio nodded towards his wrist, his face unreadable.

"I don't know. I swear. I've always had it, as long as I can remember. I guess it was put there before I left the facility."

"What facility?" Noctis' tone was apprehensive. Prompto visibly gulped.

"For magitek testing," he forced out. "That's where they make them." There were gasps; Prompto couldn't discern whose. Just that a shocked silence settled as the implications of that sunk.

"What kind of testing?" Noctis had to force himself to ask. He wasn't sure he wanted to know but now that the matter was up, to the deep end with it.

"I don't know. All I know is that all the... all the subjects," that came out as a bite, "are given a brand like this. I guess it's for identification or something. Once a... a _project_ is complete."

"So that's why you got the door open," Gladio thought out loud. Prompto nodded, looking sad.

"I guess it has no expiration date." He clearly hated to say that. The words tasted bad on his tongue.

"Did they do anything to you?" the raven asked, concern lacing his shock. He wasn't prepared to hear something like this. Not from Prompto. He felt bad thinking what kind of a baggage his friend had been carrying all this time.

"As far as I know, nothing much, I guess. In addition to this. "He motioned towards the barcode. "I was maybe six months old when my parents adopted me, so I guess I made it out in time."

"And who are they?" Gladio asked, still scoffing but the bite was gone. It was laced with what Prompto hoped to be sympathy.

"Lucians. Full-fledged and born there," Prompto hurried to state.

"That is true," Ignis butted in, pushing his glasses up. "I'm sorry, Prompto, but when you and His Highness started to get… more familiar with each other, I had to run a background check." The gunner's face flashed a look that said, 'I should've known', but the shield looked dumbstruck.

"And this didn't come up?!"

"To my greatest surprise, it didn't. According to the files, Mr. and Mrs. Argentum have a legitimately adopted son. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary in that," he noted with self-scolding in his tone.

A pressing silence settled once again. Prompto took a deep breath. He had tried to imagine how this conversation would go, had tried to prepare for it, but it was still hard. He feared to think what would come after this. Would they ever accept him again? What would he do if they didn't?

"So, what are you?" the shield fixed him with a glare that told him he had exactly one chance to give him a satisfying answer; the blond gulped: he didn't have that answer.

"I… I don't know. I don't know anymore," he shook his head, sounding sad. "I just want to be me." The shield let out a held breath, bringing a hand to rub his temples. This wasn't anywhere close to the answer he wanted.

"… Why didn't you just tell us?" he grumbled, not happy with the answer but not really feeling the vindictiveness anymore, either.

"I, uh," Prompto's voice caught into his throat. "I guess I… I was afraid. That, you know, you would think differently of me then." 'Which you do' crossed his mind, and he had to bite his cheek not to mutter that aloud. It was a hurtful thought, and he didn't want to foul the air any more. "It's not exactly something you can advertise around in Insomnia." The childhood memories flashed in his mind. Hot summer days when he had been wearing a t-shirt like everyone else. How the neighborhood children had called him names. How he had only then come to understand that they didn't have a code. That his parents didn't have a code.

_'It's because you're different, Prompto.'_

The shield said nothing more, simply looked at him, and Prompto fought the feeling of self-consciousness as he did his best not to waver under that stare.

"… At any rate, it seems like the Empire is able to track us with that barcode of yours," Ignis interrupted, bringing everyone's attention to himself. He had risen up to sit properly, and had crossed his arms. His eyes were stern, but not judgmental.

"Meaning?" Noctis asked, his tone challenging as he shot a heated look at the adviser.

"Meaning, Noct, that as long as Prompto is with us, the Empire is practically breathing down our neck. To my greatest chagrin, I must say I cannot tell what Izunia is up to. We should be prepared for anything." Throughout this, the blond had seemed to shrink. Those were the exact words he had feared to hear.

"I'm not one of them, guys," he started, his plead audible. "I'm not an enemy. I just want you to know that." Another silence settled as everyone weighed his words. Some took more time than others, until Gladio finally fixed him with another stern look and said,

"I guess, if the Empire had wanted us cold, they wouldn't have sent a birdbrain like you." It was laced with sardonic humor, and Prompto felt like a stone fell off his chest; he drew in a relieved breath as the inkling of a grin tugged at his lips. He felt like crying the hot tears, but held them back. Nevertheless, his chest fluttered.

"Yeah?" he chuckled a little.

Gladio snorted. "Yeah. Count yourself clear for now, twerp. But if we're running into those Empire pals of yours again, I'm gonna wring your neck." Dark words, but spoken with audible humor, and Prompto couldn't help a relieved chuckle.

"Deal!" He offered his fist, and his heart was about to burst as the shield bumped it back.

Noctis grinned watching them, but Ignis' expression was thoughtful. He held a hand at his chin, thumb under it and the forefinger folded under his lip. "I'm afraid Gladio is right, though. As I said, we have no idea of the enemy's motives. I am certain that Izunia's not done with us."

"Yeah," Gladio grunted. "The guy's using us, alright. Although not really a fan of saying this, but if it gets us out of here, I'm game for now."

"Agreed. But whatever his reasons are, we cannot overlook them, not anymore. The last time almost cost us too much."

"Sorry," Prompto almost peeped. Ignis glanced at him before shaking his head,

"Don't apologize. If what you say is true and you truly didn't know, then you've been as much of a pawn on their chessboard as every one of us. It would certainly make sense if you left the Empire at such a young age as you claimed. A child that young couldn't remember. And so far, what you've told matches with the records on your background in Insomnia."

"I didn't. I swear." Noctis gave a shrug, indicating that that topic was settled,

"If you say you didn't, then you didn't." He leaned against the bedframe, crossing his hands behind the back of his head. "Welcome to the club, man."

"Yeah. It's become clear that you're not hiding any underlying evil genius," Gladio smirked.

"That's tru… Wait, hey!" The shield simply chuckled as he relaxed himself onto the mattress.

* * *

 

The blue gaze idly followed the structures of the upper bunk. Prompto lied awake, having given up on trying to sleep after almost two and a half hours of tossing and turning, trying to catch the much-needed eyeful that was still denied from him. His heart beat with such intense thumps he was sure the others could hear them. The structures shifted slightly as Noctis moved in the upper bed, and Prompto held his breath. As the sleepy mumble jumble of the prince sounded, he relaxed again.

The evening had gone better than he had hoped. Eventually they had fallen back into a close idea of normalcy, with the banter and the playful bicker. The veil of vehemence had been lifted from over them; it had been almost like before all this. Almost. Except that it wasn't. Nothing was like it used to be, and they weren't the same any more.

They were prisoners. Pawns in the game of someone they had no control over, but they had no choice but to pretend it didn't matter. They had been torn apart, and the image of normalcy they put up held the undertone of artificialness. Grateful as Prompto was of their understanding and their willingness to accept him as he was, he didn't want to cause any more dispute. But he could never completely undo what damage had been done. If they would forever hold it against him in some level, no matter how small, there was nothing more he could do about it. He unfolded his right hand from under his head where it had been propped in between his skull and the pillow and brought it in front of him; his gaze heated up into a glare. He hated what he saw! It was because of it, because of what it made him that all this had happened! Ignis' words replayed and replayed in his head:

_'As long as Prompto is with us, the Empire is practically breathing down our neck.'_

He hated hearing those words over and over, and more importantly, he hated the brutal truth in them. He was a wild card. This thing made him a threat. A threat to everything he held dear anymore. As long as he was with them, Team Noct wouldn't be safe. They would always have to be on their toes, constantly glancing behind their backs, waiting for the moment someone would come for them again. And it was because of him.

Prompto's teeth clenched, and a fit of rage had him clawing at that cursed mark again. It stung, his nail cut deep enough to draw little pinpricks of blood, and he stilled his hand. Panting silently, he glared at it. It was because of it that something crystallized more and more clearly each moment, the fog clearing in his hazy mind to reveal what he would have to do. He would have to leave. When Izunia would let them out at wherever the hell he was taking them, Prompto would have to leave. He refused to play this role anymore. He refused to be the puppet of that sick bastard any longer. Where he would go, he didn't know. He had no place in this world anymore, with Insomnia in ashes and his parents most likely with it. But he wouldn't put Noct at risk anymore because of what this goddamn mark made him!

'If only this thing didn't exist!' he thought. 'If only–!'

He gasped as an epiphany hit him. As he eyed the blood roses rising to his skin, it struck him like lightning. His eyes widened when he understood what that realization meant, but… if it meant that he could stay with them, still have a place without endangering them… then it wouldn't matter. He remembered his promise to the Six last night. 'He would give anything.' Given, he hadn't expected the anything be quite like this, but… a promise was a promise. His pain _would_ be nothing. He _would_ withstand any amount if only it meant that the others would be safe. He took in a few deep breaths to calm his suddenly racing heart a little. Adrenaline had erupted into his system, coursing through him like a wildfire, waking his body from its relaxed slumber under the threat posed upon it. He drew in deep breaths, savoring the stinging on his scratched arm. Then he got up, careful not to make a sound as he tiptoed into the bathroom.

Pulling the door closed behind him, he went to pull his belt off his pants. He fumbled a little as he wrapped it tightly around his right arm, his fingers working a bit sloppily in his haste. He had to work fast; he feared that his resolve would crumble if he didn't. When finally satisfied with the tightness, he reached over to slide his bandanna off and tugged it into his mouth, biting onto it. Then he tried to call to Ignis' weaponry.

The dagger came, a little to his surprise. He hadn't been sure it'd work. He clenched the golden blade in his shaking hand, feeling his palm sweating; he watched his own quivering reflection on it before shifting his gaze back to the code. He hated it. He was terrified of this, of what he was about to do for he thought he didn't have it in him and never would, but this, this thing he hated more than that.

His hand shook as the edge hovered over the skin. He braced himself for this, for the pain, for the nausea that was already building in his stomach. He hesitated as the blade inched closer, then drew back before inching closer again. But if he didn't do this, he would remain a threat. He didn't want to be a threat! He wasn't anyone's plaything!

The initial moans of pain were muffled as the dagger carved into his skin where the fresh blood roses bloomed over his barcode.

* * *

END OF PART 1

* * *

**Next up, 'Mind of a Tool'.  
**


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